Mrs.Askerton was on that occasion silenced, and she said nothing more about Mr.Belton till after Clara had returned from Perivale.
The journey itself from Belton to Perivale was always a nuisance, and was more so now than usual, as it was made in the disagreeable month of November.

There was kept at the little inn at Redicote an old fly--so called--which habitually made the journey to the Taunton railway-station, under the conduct of an old grey horse and an older and greyer driver, whenever any of the old ladies of the neighbourhood were minded to leave their homes.

This vehicle usually travelled at the rate of five miles an hour; but the old grey driver was never content to have time allowed to him for the transit calculated upon such a rate of speed.

Accidents might happen, and why should he be made, as he would plaintively ask, to drive the poor beast out of its skin?
He was consequently always at Belton a full hour before the time, and though Clara was well aware of all this, she could not help herself.

Her father was fussy and impatient, the man was fussy and impatient; and there was nothing for her but to go.
On the present occasion she was taken off in this way the full sixty minutes too soon, and after four dreary hours spent upon the road, found herself landed at the Taunton station, with a terrible gulf of time to be passed before she could again proceed on her journey.
One little accident had occurred to her.