die the butler.

The lady of the house wanted the carriage and pair next day to drive
over to Foxbourne in the afternoon and wait to bring her back after the
meeting. The story merely gives the bold wording used to notify the
fact: it does not know what Foxbourne was, nor why there was a meeting.
Its only reason for referring to them is that the party for Chorlton had
to change its plans and go by the up-train from St. Everall's to
Grantley Thorpe, and make it stop there specially. St. Everall's, you
may remember, is the horrible new place about two miles from Pensham.
The carriage could take them there and be back in plenty of time, and
there was always a groggy old concern to be had at the Crown at Grantley
that would run them over to Strides Cottage in half an hour. If it had
been favourable weather, no doubt the long drive would have been much
pleasanter; but with the chance of a heavy downfall of snow making the
roads difficult, the short drives and short railway journey had
advantages.

Therefore when the groggy old concern, which had seen better days--early
Georgian days, probably--pulled up at Strides Cottage in the afternoon,
with a black pall of cloud, whose white heralds were already coming
thick and fast ahead of it, hanging over Chorlton Down, two at least of
the travellers who alighted from it had misgivings that if their visit
was a prolonged one, its grogginess and antiquity might stand in its way
on a thick-snowed track in the dark, and might end in their being late
for the down-train at six. The third of their number saw nothing, and
only said:--"Hullo--snowing!" when on getting free of the concern one of
the heralds aforesaid perished to convince him of its veracity; gave up
the ghost between his shirt-collar and his epidermis. "Yes," he
continued, addressing the first inhabitant of the cottage who greeted
him. "You are quite right. I am the owner of a dog, and you do perfectly
right to inquire about him. His nose is singularly unlike yours. He will
detect your flavour when I return, and I shall have to allay his
jealousy. It is his fault. We are none of us perfect." The dog gave a
short bark which might have meant that Adrian had better hold his
tongue, as anything he said might be used against him.

"Now you are in the kitchen and sitting-room I've told you of, because
it's both," said Gwen. "And here is Granny Marrable herself."

"Give me hold of your hand, Granny. Because I can't see you, more'