but it's off,
naturally! I expect Doris will use my ticket, when I don't turn up."

"I meant to wash our dog when I got back!" laughed Ingred. "He'll have
to look dirty on Sunday, now."

"And I meant to do a hundred things; but what's the use of talking about
them now?" groaned Verity. "Here's our farm, and that appears to be the
river over there. Didn't that girl say: 'Keep along to the left'?
Perhaps we'd better ask again."

They verified their instructions from a boy who was standing in the
farmyard, whittling a stick, and trudged away over a stubble field and
through a turnstile gate. It was quite pretty along the path by the
river. There was a tall hedge where hips and haws showed red, and a
grassy border where a few wild flowers still bloomed. The sun shed a
soft golden autumnal haze over the fields and bushes and the lines of
yellow trees.

The girls rather enjoyed themselves; it was an unexpected country
excursion, and had all the charm of novelty. They walked about half a
mile, chatting about school matters as they went, then suddenly they
were confronted by an alternative. A bridge spanned the river, and the
broad, well-trodden path along which they had come turned over the
bridge. There was indeed a track that continued along the left bank, but
it was over-grown, and looked little used. Which were they to take?

That was a question which required discussion.

"The girl said: 'keep along the river bank on the left,'" urged Ingred.

"Yet the path so plainly goes across here," demurred Verity.

"That's certainly the left bank, but that way looks as if it led to
nowhere," vacillated Beatrice.

"Can't we ask anybody?"

"There isn't a soul in sight."

"Isn't there a signpost?"

"Nothing of the sort."

"Then which way _shall_ we go?"

"Better take votes on it."

"Right-o! I'm for 'bypath meadow.'"

"And I'm for the 'king's highway.'"

"So am I, so we're two to one!"

"I'll give in, then," said Ingred, "only I've a sort of feeling we're
going wrong, all the same!"

The new path led along the opposite bank, and was very much a replica of
the former. It ran on and on for what seemed quite a long distance, but
they met nobody from whom they could inquire the way. For nearly a
quarter of a mile a belt of trees obscured the view, and when at last
the prospect could once more be seen, Beatrice stopped short with a
groan of despair. On the other side of the water was the unmistakable
spire of Waver