Thinking him sober enough to be perfectly safe, George Douglas felt no fear, and, bowing to his new relatives, went back to comfort Theo, who as a matter of course cried a little when the carriage drove away. Worcester was left behind, and they were far out in the country ere a word was exchanged between Madam Conway and Maggie; for while the latter was pouting behind her veil, the former was wondering what possessed Mike to drive into every rut and over every stone. "You, Mike!" she exclaimed at last, leaning from the window. "What ails you?" "Nothing, as I'm a living man," answered Mike, halting so suddenly as to jerk the lady backwards and mash the crown of her bonnet. Straightening herself up, and trying in vain to smooth the jam, Madam Conway continued: "In liquor, I know. I wish I had stayed home." But Mike loudly denied the charge, declaring he had spent the blessed night at a meeting of the "Sons," where they passed around nothing stronger than lemons and water, and if the horses chose to run off the track it wasn't his fault--he couldn't help it; and with the air of one deeply injured he again started forward, turning off ere long into a cross road, which, as they advanced, grew more stony and rough, while the farmhouses, as a general thing, presented a far less respectable appearance than those on the Hillsdale route. "Mike, you villain!" ejaculated the lady, as they ran down into a ditch, and she sprang to one side to keep the carriage from going over. But ere she had time for anything further, one of the axletrees snapped asunder, and to proceed further in their present condition was impossible. Alighting from the carriage, and setting her little feet upon the ground with a vengeance, Madam Conway first scolded Mike unmercifully for his carelessness, and next chided Maggie for manifesting no more concern. "You'd as lief go to destruction as not, I do believe!" said she, looking carefully after the bandbox containing her purple satin. "I'd rather go there first," answered Maggie, pointing to a brown old-fashioned farmhouse about a quarter of a mile away. At first Madam Conway objected, saying she preferred sitting on the bank to intruding herself upon strangers; but as it was now noonday, and the warm September sun poured fiercely down upon her, she finally concluded to follow Maggie's advice, and gathering up her box and parasol started for the house, which, with its tansy patch on the right, and its single poplar tree in front, presented rather an uninviting appearance. "Some vulgar creatures live there, I know. Just hear that old tin horn!" she exclaimed, as a blast, loud and shrill, blown by practiced lips, told the men in a distant field that dinner was ready.