icia, who was now in a deck-chair, examined the caravan in a kind
of ecstasy. "What a lovely place it is!" she said. "Do you really live
here? How scrumptiously exciting!"

"My bed's over there," said Gregory.

"Where do you stop at night?" Patricia asked.

"I have to go to the farmers and get leave to camp on their land," said
Gregory.

"And is it just you two and the driver?" Patricia asked.

"Oh, no," said Gregory; "there are five others, but they are walking
over Bredon Hill. They said we could not walk so far, which is rot, of
course; but I'm glad we didn't, because then we shouldn't have been
here to save your life."

"Mother will be very grateful to you for being so kind," said Patricia.
"Poor mother! she'll be so frightened about me. And Tommy--how dreadful
for him to lose Snelgrove!"

"Who's Tommy?" Gregory asked.

"Tommy's my brother," said Patricia. "He's twelve. Aunt May gave
Snelgrove to him and Marshall to me last Christmas. They've never run
away before. I wish we had a caravan."

"Caravans are very jolly," said Gregory. "Things are always happening,
too."

"I'd rather have a sweet grey pony than a caravan," said Hester,
bringing a cup of tea.

CHAPTER 16

THE BLACK SPANIELS

Gregory, who was looking out of the door and meditating an escape from
so much dampness, and a conversation on the whole matter with Kink,
exclaimed suddenly, "Hello, I guess this is your mother."

"Yes, it is," cried Patricia, standing up and waving her handkerchief
to a lady seated in a milk-cart, which was being driven after them at a
tremendous pace. "I wondered who she'd get to bring her here, and it's
young Daniel Wilson. Tell your man to stop, please."

Mrs. Mordan, whom Gregory thought both a nice and a pretty lady, leapt
out of the milk-cart and ran up the steps of the Slowcoach, and mother
and daughter hugged each other for quite two minutes, while Gregory
looked at young Daniel Wilson, and Patricia began to cry afresh--this
time because she was happy.

Mrs. Mordan was happy too. The grief she had felt for the accident and
the injury to poor Snelgrove, whom she had left in agony by the road,
passed away when she found her little daughter unhurt.

She sat holding Patricia's hand, and asked Hester a number of
questions, and gave her a number of thanks all together.

Gregory meanwhile had got out, and was asking young Daniel Wilson how
ponies are shot; and what he did about getting milk to the stati