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"If there bain't another for Nuncombe," said Mrs. Clegg's Ostler to Mrs. Clegg's Boots, as Stanbury was driven off in a gig. "That be young Stanbury, a-going of whome." "They be all a-going for the Clock House. Since the old 'ooman took to thick there house, there be folk a-comin' and a-goin' every day loike." "It's along of the madam that they keeps there, Dick," said the Boots.
It'll mebbe be a lesson to you some day if anythin' sh'd come up 's led you to look to be extra happy all of a sudden, 'n' you'll remember this hour 'n' jus' firmly go back into the house 'n' shut the door 'n' say, 'Life's a delusion 'n' a snare, like Susan Clegg's Cousin Marion. It's better for you to learn the lesson 's all is vanity now, than to wait 'n' have it fall on your head like a unexpected pickle-jar, the way 's this day 's fell on mine."
They met at last, quite informally, at Mrs. Clegg's dinner, a small and congenial affair. When the men came into the drawing-room, after the cigars, Mrs. Cable, with not a little trepidation, motioned to Mr. Bansemer to draw up his chair beside her. "I have been looking forward with pleasure to this opportunity, Mr. Bansemer," she said, in a courteously acidulated way.
Miss Clegg's attitude as she stood in the doorway was one of blended commiseration and disgust. "Well, I never would 'a' believed it o' Jathrop!" she burst forth at last. "'T wa'n't Jathrop," Mrs. Lathrop protested feebly; "it was the " "I know, but the cow never come of her own free will, 'n' it strikes me 't Jathrop's the one to blame.
"Do you propose to go riding, sir?" "I do!" "Yes, sir which horse do you ?" "Wildfire. Have him brought round at once!" "Very good, sir!" Not waiting for Clegg's assistance, I slipped off my evening garments and was pulling on my riding boots when I heard the tattoo of Wildfire's impatient hoofs upon the roadway. "What time may I expect you back, sir?" enquired Clegg, as I jingled downstairs.
The morning was very long to the broken-legged one, who found herself quite unable to sleep under such circumstances. She was glad beyond words when she heard Miss Clegg's step on the kitchen stoop about noon, and two minutes later Susan was occupying the rocker, and the repast which she had brought with her was beginning to occupy her friend.
"Were you ever in the service of a Captain Danby?" enquired Anthony, his keen gaze on Clegg's impassive face. "Yes, sir, I was valet to Captain Marmaduke Danby two years ago." "I saw you with him once at a small inn called 'The Jolly Waggoner." Clegg bowed deferentially, but when he looked up his pale eyes seemed to glow strangely and his pallid cheek was slightly flushed.
He's Charles Stuart MacAllister's dog, and I can give him to Charles Stuart when he comes." "Oh, he ain't going' to hurt anybody; are you, little doggie?" whispered Martha Ellen good-naturedly. "He'll be all right so long as your grandpa don't see him; eh, Eppie?" Eppie smiled shyly, and then Noah Clegg's squeaky boots sounded up the aisle and Sunday school had commenced.
"Well; and what then?" "He came back and slept at Mrs. Clegg's that night, at least, that was what he said he should do." Miss Stanbury, however, was not so precipitate or uncharitable as to act strongly upon information such as this. Before she even said a word to Dorothy, she made further inquiry. She made very minute inquiry, writing even to her very old and intimate friend Mrs.
Clegg's sheets, while from behind this magic screen hiding one could not guess what wonders shone all the lanterns owned by the population of Forest Glen, and across its glowing surface flitted gigantic shadows. Martha Ellen Robertson, in a brilliant pink satin waist, and all her jewelry; and Miss Hillary in a new white dress, were already hurrying up and down the aisle marshaling their forces.
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