I dare say they haven't been out to-day, and it'll do them good.' So saying, Mr.Sponge left his valuable servant to do the best he could for himself.
Having returned to the music-room, with the aid of an old county map Mr.
Sponge proceeded to trace his way to Dundleton Tower; aided, or rather retarded, by Mr.Jawleyford, who kept pointing out all sorts of difficulties, till, if Mr.Sponge had followed his advice, he would have made eighteen or twenty miles of the distance.

Sponge, however, being used to scramble about strange countries, saw the place was to be accomplished in ten or eleven.

Jawleyford was sure he would lose himself, and Sponge was equally confident that he wouldn't.
At length the glad sound of the gong put an end to all further argument; and the inmates of Jawleyford Court retired, candle in hand, to their respective apartments, to adorn for a repetition of the yesterday's spread, with the addition of the Rev.Mr.Hobanob's company, to say grace, and praise the 'Wintle.' An appetiteless dinner was succeeded by tea and music, as before.
The three elegant French clocks in the drawing-room being at variance, one being three-quarters of an hour before the slowest, and twenty minutes before the next, Mr.Hobanob (much to the horror of Jawleyford) having nearly fallen asleep with his Sevres coffee-cup in his hand, at last drew up his great silver watch by its jack-chain, and finding it was a quarter past ten, prepared to decamp--taking as affectionate a leave of the ladies as if he had been going to China.

He was followed by Mr.Jawleyford, to see him pocket his pumps, and also by Mr.Sponge, to see what sort of a night it was.
The sky was clear, stars sparkled in the firmament, and a young crescent moon shone with silvery brightness o'er the scene.
'That'll do,' said Sponge, as he eyed it; 'no haze there.

Come,' added he to his papa-in-law, as Hobanob's steps died out on the terrace, 'you'd better go to-morrow.' 'Can't,' replied Jawleyford; 'go next day, perhaps--Scrambleford Green--better place--much.