Untitled - Beeldbibliotheek

252 CARAVAN DAYShis whip. The effect, you may be sure, will losenothing by his negligence.It was a glorious morning, very cold with ahigh wind from the North-East ,which fairlydrove us home down the valley of the MoffatWater.We pulled up at the cottage with, as far as wecould judge, the largest family, to deposit aninteresting and varied assortment of high-classremnants. We discarded, each in its turn, theNe Plus Ultra, the Last Straw and the Limit.Jessica was with us almost to the last, and nowreposes in a wood not two miles from home, wheremy Partner and I hope before long, on a fineSunday afternoon, to go over and look her up.We had no shower of rain to dim and dull ourperfect radiance. The sun shone all the way, thewind blew keen and white clouds scampered onbefore us ;for all the world, it seemed, was goingour \vay. We pulled up for lunch eight milesfrom home, and the front of the van, perfectlysheltered from the wind and pointing to theSouth-West, was like a sun-bath.Simon, " slinking along," as Herbert says,with his eyes on the ground, had no idea of hisdestination. But Sam at the earliest opportunitytook a good look across the valley, and it dawned