Twilight had settled when they drew up with a good toot on their grunty hooter at the white wicker gate of the country home of the Countess on the evening of the proper day as they had somewhat artfully arranged only to arrive in time for dinner. As well as they could see squinting through the darkness it was a very low house and very broad like a tennis club but of course more grand looking very nice with nice smelling flowers about and two white peacocks strolling on the lawn. But alas to their dismay no one was at home. Only a little page-boy and he was a stuttering one, and had some trouble to get out that the family was on the river in their boat, so that Mr. Withersq gave him a sixpence and let him go. “Dear me” said he waving away the chauffeur who took off the car, “we are nicely sold and shall get no grub.” “Yes indeed” said Selia very crossly “I think we had better go home again” for she had a vacancy. “Not so” cried he “we have not come so far for nothing. Come with me.” Now Selia was more than a bit tired and only followed him because she hoped to be fed rebuffing his kindly arm, she tottered on her high heels beside him in smothering rage. But past experiences had taught our hero. “Fear not” he said “you will be well filled yet, for Unckle Burt has not died for nothing.” And he led her through the dark lanes under the creepy trees towards the spottling lights of a near village. Selia was a good bit afraid as she feared to step on a frog or some other vermin and went picking her way. Still she had a pluck and kept moving only wishing herself elsewhere. Soon they struck a cosy little pub where a man was hissing outside over the feet of a horse which he was washing. Selia looked at the horse which exchanged her glance but Mr. Withersq looked in the pub. He came out in a short moment to find his sweet leaning against the animal. “All is well,” said he, “our party is close at hand.” “Nasty lot they might have waited for us,” said she. “For I am footsore and have empty rumblings also.” “Excuse me, sir,” said the horse’s man, coming up under its stomach, “but there is a nice little ham and beef shop a few doors away.” Casting a cold look on this fellow, Selia took the talk up. “Show the gentleman the way,” said she, “and pop me on the horse, for I must have a sit down and do not care to demean myself by entering a public house.” The horse, hearing his name mentioned, turned to have a stare, but she cared little for that, knowing to be firm with the dumb creatures is best, so she made a severe face at it. “Show a leg,” cried Harold gallantly, and with a good grasp on her, and the man pushing too, they got her up on the horse.