"Only two hours from Exeter. Pretty good for the old boneshaker, what?" said Tony. "Deacock drove her along like a thoroughbred." The chauffeur touched his cap and, smiling complacently, leaned over to pat the tires of the car. "Mother's waiting at the house," said Arabella. "She would have driven down in the chaise to meet Dorothy, but she didn't know exactly when you'd be here and was so afraid of catching cold just when she most wanted not to." There followed a stream of gossip about the health of various animals, and about the way Marlow, the head-keeper, was looking forward to shooting Cherrington Long Covert, and how much afraid he had been that Tony would not be back before the end of the month, and how glad he was that he was back, in the middle of which Constantia informed Dorothy that there was a meet at Five Tree Farm two days hence and asked her if she was going to hunt for the rest of the season. Arabella kicked her sister so clumsily that Dorothy noticed the warning, and with a sudden impulse to risk all, even death, in the attempt, she replied that of course she intended to hunt for the rest of the season. Tony began to protest, but she cut him short. "My dear boy, when I lived with my grandmother I always hunted. And I've kept up riding ever since." "Well, that's topping," exclaimed Connie. "Yes, that really is topping," echoed Arabella. "But alas! I don't shoot," Dorothy confessed, "so if it won't bore you too much you'll have to give me lessons." "Oh, rather," began Connie, immediately. "Well, you see, the most important thing is not to look across your barrels. I find that most people--Well, for instance, supposing you put up a woodcock...." "I say, Connie, shut up, shut up," Tony exclaimed. "You can't begin at once. You'll put our eyes out in the car with that stick."