"No, no, dear, go--to please me," said Lady Rea; and the girl ran off. The waggonette was round, and Sir Hampton was drawing on his gloves, the image of punctuality, when Fin came rushing down, closely followed by her sister, and the party started for the little station town, Saint Kitt's, passing on the road another handsome new waggonette, with a fine, well-paced pair of horses. "I wonder whose turn-out that is?" said Sir Hampton. "Strange thing that everybody gets better horses than I do." "I know whose it is," said Fin, demurely. "Whose?" said Sir Hampton. "Daren't say," replied Fin. "Ask Edward. Edward!" she cried, "whose carriage is that?" "Think it's Mr Trevor's, ma'am," said the footman, touching his hat. "Er-rum," ejaculated Sir Hampton, and Fin nudged her sister and made her colour. The box was at the station, and it was put in the waggonette by a tall porter, whom Fin spoke of to her sister as the signal post, and then she proposed that they should wait and see if anything would come by the train due in a few minutes. Now, Sir Hampton expected something by that train, but he had been so crossed that day, and was in such a contrary mood, that he exclaimed-- "Er-rum, absurd; certainly not. Drive back at once." Fin made a grimace at her sister, who replied with a look of remonstrance; Sir Hampton sat back and frowned at the landscape, as if he thought it too green; and away they bowled just as the whistle of the engine was heard in the distance. Something has been said before about the Cornish lanes, and the way in which the granite bones of Mother Nature peer out and form buttresses to the banks, huge pillars, and mighty corners. The lane they were traversing on their way back was not one of the least rugged, though the road was good; and they had gone at a pretty sharp trot for about a mile, when a cart came rattling along just at a turn of the road where it was narrow; and in making way--_click_! the box of one wheel caught against a granite buttress pushed forth from the bank, the wheel wriggled about, and fifty Yards farther came off and went trundling down the hill--the coachman fortunately pulling his horses up short, so that the waggonette sidled over against the ferny bank, and no one was hurt. "Such abominable driving," exclaimed Sir Hampton. "Very sorry, sir," said the coachman. "Oh, pa, it was those other people's fault. I saw it all," said Fin. The coachman gave her a grateful look, and the footman helped all to alight. Five minutes' inspection showed that the wheel was so much injured that it would take time to repair, and there was nothing for it but to send to the little town to get assistance. "Shall I send Edward with one horse, Sir Hampton, and ride the other home and fetch the barouche." "Yes--no--yes," said Sir Hampton, waking to the fact that they were yet eight miles from home, and he had done quite as much walking as he cared for in one day.