"How have you been, Mrs. Bell?" asked Mrs. Selwyn, with a kind smile,
as the carriage paused a bit.
"Very well, my lady," said Mrs. Bell, her round face glowing with
pride. "And the earl is well, bless him! and we are glad to welcome you
home again, and Master Tom."
"And I'm glad enough to get here, Mrs. Bell," cried Tom. "Now drive on
at your fastest, Hobson."
Hobson, who knew very well what Master Tom's fastest gait was,
preferred to drive through the park at what he considered the dignified
pace. So they rolled on under the stately trees, going miles, it seemed
to Polly, who sat on the back seat with Tom.
He turned to her, unable to conceal his impatience. "Anybody would
think this pair were worn out old cobs," he fumed. "Polly, you have no
idea how they can go, when Hobson lets them out. What are you wasting
all this time for, crawling along in this fashion, Hobson, when you
know we want to get on?"
Thus publicly addressed, Hobson let the handsome bays "go" as Tom
expressed it, and they were bowled along in a way that made Polly turn
in delight to Tom.
"There--that's something like!" declared Tom. "Don't you like it,
Polly?" looking into her rosy face.
"Like it!" cried Polly, "why, Tom Selwyn, it's beautiful. And these
splendid trees--" she looked up and around. "Oh, I never saw any so
fine."
"They're not half bad," assented Tom, "these oaks aren't, and we have
some more, on the other end of the park, about five miles off, that--"
"Five miles off!" cried Polly, with wide eyes.
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