By this time, however, Dyson had got so pleased with his new accomplishment, that he declared it his intention to go and pay some visits in the village, saying it was several years since he had had a good chat with his neighbors. But they all went, the old man hurrying on at a great rate, so eager was he to show off his newly-recovered powers. The first person they met was Virginie, and Dyson said he must have a word with "Mamselle." Humphrey was in an excited state, ready for anything; so while Virginie was talking, he called Miles, and told him he thought it would be a capital evening for the pond where the water-lilies grew. There was a stile at the side of the road, which he knew to be a short cut to the pond, and he had no doubt they would be able to find their way. No recollection of his promise to his father troubled his conscience; and as they were not going to climb the tree, even Virginie could not object! So he helped his little brother over the stile, and then they both ran with all their might. Meanwhile Virginie, talking affably through the trumpet, in the high road, did not notice that they had disappeared. CHAPTER IX. There was an unusual stir in the quiet household of Wareham Abbey that evening; for at nearly eight o'clock the two little boys had not returned home. Virginie had not been very much concerned at their absence during the first few hours, as they very often ran on before her, and then betook themselves to some of their favorite haunts. But when tea-time came and passed, she got uneasy, and went to look for them. Her uneasiness changed to alarm when she had visited in vain the dairy, laundry, swing, gardens, and dog-kennel. Then, when it came on to rain, her anxiety increased; and when from drizzling it changed to a steady down-pour her "nerves" gave way completely, and she returned home to consult with the other servants as to what steps had best be taken. She went into the housekeeper's room, wringing her hands, and prognosticating all sorts of evils to Miles. "Never, never, would he recover from the effects of such a wetting!" The gardener was dispatched one way and the coachman another, bearing umbrellas and galoshes. The two little culprits were soon discovered sitting in a damp ditch, sheltering themselves under a hedge. Humphrey took great credit to himself for having hit upon this plan. "The fact was," he said, "the pond and the water-lilies had been so engrossing, that he had forgotten all about the time till he saw the sun beginning to sink; then starting off in a great hurry, they had taken the wrong turning out of the field, and lost their way in the wood."