"That's my husband's affair, and he's rather particular.

He's gone to Chipping Norton; but," she added, as Gregory began to look miserable, "he'll be back any minute now.

You sit down and have a cup of tea with me and wait for him." So they sat down, and Mrs.Gosden made the tea, which she took from a highly coloured tin, covered also with beautiful women, and they had with it bread and butter and lettuce, and talked.
"And how do you like gipsying ?" Mrs.Gosden asked.
"I think it's going to be splendid," Mary said; "but we've only just begun." "Then you haven't slept out before ?" "No," said Mary.
"My word!" said Mrs.Gosden; "what sore throats you'll have in the morning! Roughing it's all very well by day, but give me a comfortable bed to lay in of a night.

That's me!" At this moment the sound of wheels was heard, and Mrs.Gosden jumped up and added some hot water to the tea and cut some more bread-and-butter.
"That's father," she said, and Mr.Gosden soon after came in.
He was a big man with whiskers under his chin all the way round, but none on the rest of his face.
"Hello!" he said; "visitors!" "Yes," said Mrs.Gosden, "a young lady and gentleman who are living in a caravan, and want to camp in the hay takers.

At least, I think it's the hay takers from what they say of it." "Ho, do they ?" said Mr.Gosden.