That chaise comes to the end of Rosemary Lane at an early hour to-morrow morning.

I take my wife and my niece out to show them the beauties of the neighborhood.

We have a picnic hamper with us, which marks our purpose in the public eye.

You disfigure yourself in a shawl, bonnet, and veil of Mrs.Wragge's; we turn our backs on York; and away we drive on a pleasure trip for the day--you and I on the front seat, Mrs.Wragge and the hamper behind.
Good again.

Once on the highroad, what do we do?
Drive to the first station beyond York, northward, southward, or eastward, as may be hereafter determined.