"Yes, I suppose she is," he rejoined. "Come to me at six o'clock, Bainton. I shall want you."
"Very good, sir!"
The pole splashed in the water,--the punt shot out into the clear stream,--Nebbie gave two short barks, as was his custom when he found himself being helplessly borne away from dry land,--and in a few seconds Walden had disappeared round one of the bends of the river. Bainton stood ruminating for a minute.
"Jest a one 'oss fly, goin' at a one 'oss fly pace!" he repeated, slowly;--"It's a cheap way of comin' 'ome to one's father's 'Alls-- jest in a one 'oss fly! She might ha' ordered a kerridge an' pair by telegram, an' dashed it up in fine style, but a one 'oss fly! It do take the edge off a 'ome-comin'!--it do reely now."
And with a kind of short grunt at the vanity and disappointment of human expectations, he went his way to the kitchen garden, there to 'chew the cud of sweet and bitter memory' over the asparagus beds, which were in a highly promising condition.