everity.

"Oh well, I don't know," said Mr. Alexander evasively, "I'll see.
Anyhow, don't say anything to my mother about it; a drunken man is like
a red rag to a bull to her."

Taking this peculiarity of Mrs. Alexander into consideration, it was
perhaps as well that she left Craffroe a few days afterwards to stay
with her brother. The evening before she left both the Fairy Pig and the
Ghost Woman were seen again on the avenue, this time by the coachman,
who came into the kitchen considerably the worse for liquor and
announced the fact, and that night the household duties were performed
by the maids in pairs, and even, when possible, in trios.

As Mrs. Alexander said at dinner to Sir George, on the evening of her
arrival, she was thankful to have abandoned the office of Ghostly
Comforter to her domestics. Only for Barnet she couldn't have left poor
Freddy to the mercy of that pack of fools; in fact, even with Barnet to
look after them, it was impossible to tell what imbecility they were not
capable of.

"Well, if you like," said Sir George, "I might run you over there on the
motor car some day to see how they're all getting on. If Freddy is going
to hunt on Friday, we might go on to Craffroe after seeing the fun."

The topic of Barnet was here shelved in favour of automobiles. Mrs.
Alexander's brother was also a person of enthusiasms.

But what were these enthusiasms compared to the deep-seated ecstasy of
Freddy Alexander as in his new pink coat he rode down the main street
of Enniscar, Patsey in equal splendour bringing up the rear, unspeakably
conscious of the jibes of his relatives and friends. There was a select
field, consisting of Mr. Taylour, four farmers, some young ladies on
bicycles, and about two dozen young men and boys on foot, who, in order
to be prepared for all contingencies, had provided themselves with five
dogs, two horns, and a ferret. It is, after all, impossible to please
everybody, and from the cyclists' and foot people's point of view the
weather left nothing to be desired. The sun shone like a glistering
shield in the light blue November sky, the roads were like iron, the
wind, what there was of it, like steel. There was a line of white on the
northerly side of the fences, that yielded grudgingly and inch by inch
before the march of the pale sunshine: the new pack could hardly have
had a more unfavourable day for their _debut_.

The new Master was, however, wholly undaunted by such crumpl