Correspondence
had also been going on between the Wilkinsons and the Coristines on both
sides of the houses, and Mr. Terry seemed to be included in the circle.
One fine July morning he asked for the loan of the waggonette and set
off to town, whence he returned in the afternoon, with three ladies and
a coloured ladies' maid, attended by a gentleman and his servant on
horseback. Strange to say, the Errols, the Perrownes, the newly-married
Bangs, and Mr. Bigglethorpe, were at Bridesdale. Marjorie's terrier, a
new Muggins given her by Mr. Perrowne, but which she called Guff, ran
barking to meet the approaching party, and the animal's mistress,
following it, was soon in the arms of long absent friends. "Where is
Eugene?" she cried, in a tone of disappointment. "Where is Mr.
Wilkinson?" asked Mrs. Carruthers, in concern. "We have lost them for a
little while," replied the ladies, cheerfully. So they changed their
things, unpacked their trunks, dispensed many gifts, brought through all
sorts of custom houses, and assembled in the drawing-room to await the
stated six o'clock tea. The clock was on the stroke, when they all heard
singing, on the road, of two male voices:--
For, be it early morning,
Or be it late at night,
Cheerily ring our footsteps,
Right, left, right!
Then two jovial pedestrians came swinging through the gate, with the old
knapsacks on their backs, and newly cut staves in their hands.
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