exercises underneath it. You got into it at the back; it was about ten
feet high, and you started it at the side by a handle in its midriff.
But I loved it. It still went, if treated kindly. Barbara loathed it and
insulted it, so that with her as passenger, it sulked and refused to go.
But Susan's adoration surpassed even mine. Its demoniac groans and
rattles and convulsive quakings appealed to her unspoiled sense of
adventure.

"Barbara has gone away with the Daimler," said I, "and as I don't keep a
fleet of cars, I had to choose between this and the donkey-cart. Get in
and don't be so fastidious--unless you're afraid--"

He took no account of my sarcasm. His face fell. He made no attempt to
enter the car.

"Barbara gone away?"

I burst out laughing. His disappointment at not being welcomed by
Barbara at Northlands was so genuine and so childishly unconcealed.

"She'll be back in time for lunch. She had to run up to town on
business. She sent you her love and Susie will do the honours."

His face brightened. "That's all right. But you gave me a shock.
Northlands without Barbara--" He shook his head.

We drove off. The Chinese Puffhard excelled herself, and though she
choked asthmatically did not really stop once until we were half way up
the drive, when I abandoned her to the gardeners, who later on harnessed
the donkey to her and pulled her into the motor-house. We dismounted,