She was greeted by the innkeeper with much consternation. “You may borrow my gig, Miss Cecily, and welcome you are to it, but I will not be having you drive up to your grandfather’s house with no female to companion you. I don’t know what the world’s coming to, but what I do know is your grandfather would rip up at me something fierce if you was to show up at the manor in my gig with no maid! I’ll tell Betsy to go along with you and our Henry will be up there in no time to fetch the gig back.” Cecily thought it best not to protest, for she knew the innkeeper to be right about her grandfather’s opinions. She merely resolved to tip Henry handsomely for his trouble. The gig was soon brought round, and Cecily set off on the three-mile drive to her grandfather’s house with her hands on the reins and Betsy at her side. When she drew up before the manor, the door opened and more voices were added to the innkeeper’s, predicting dire consequences to her morning escapade. Sir Waldo Staveley was a just master, but there was nothing in his behaviour to suggest that he would condone the arrival of his granddaughter in anything less than his own chaise.
