ared, and to
enjoy a virtual _tete-a-tete_ for the whole of the way--that was best of
all! And he had chosen her as his companion before Lettice, before
Norah, before any one of the party! The thought added largely to her
satisfaction.

As Miss Carr refused point-blank to take the box seat, and as Mr
Bertrand insisted that it should be taken by the other visitor, Hilary
advanced to the ladder, and was about to climb up to the high seat, when
she turned back with an expression of anxious inquiry.

Mr Rayner stood immediately behind, but his "Please go on!" showed that
he understood her hesitation, and was annoyed at the suggestion of help.
She seated herself, therefore, and tried in vain to look at ease while
he followed. For two or three steps he managed to support himself on
his crutches with marvellous agility; on the fourth they slipped, and if
he had not been seized from behind by Mr Bertrand and pulled forward by
Hilary's outstretched hand, he must have had a serious fall. Hilary
literally dare not look at his face for the first ten minutes of the
drive, for with an instinctive understanding of another person's feeling
which was a new experience to this self-engrossed little lady, she
realised that he was smarting beneath the consciousness of having made
himself an object of general commiseration. Whatever happened, he must
not think that she was pitying him. She racked her brain to think of
something to say--some amusing stories to tell. "I wish we were going
on a coach instead of a char-a-banc. I love to see the drivers in their
white hats and red coats, and to hear the horns blowing. There is
something so cheerful about a horn! We are getting to know all the
drivers quite well now. I say `getting to know,' because it takes quite
three years to know a North-countryman. They are so terribly reserved!
Last year I was on the box seat of a coach sitting next to the driver
whom we knew best of all. There were some American ladies behind who
kept worrying him with questions all the while. `Driver, will you show
us Wordsworth's house?' `Driver, you won't forget Wordsworth's house?'
`Driver, hev you passed by Wordsworth's house?' He just sat like a
statue and took no notice whatever. Poor man! I wonder how many
thousand times he has been asked those questions! One of the horses had
bandages round his front leg, and at last I said--I believe I was trying
to show off a little bit, you know, just to let