'
The venerable person who went by the name of Giblets had by this time
opened the carriage door, and our courier, or 'boots'--he looked more like
the latter functionary--had lowered the steps, and in greater trepidation
than I experienced when in after-days I was presented to my sovereign,
I glided down, to offer myself to the greeting and inspection of the
plain-spoken young lady who stood at the top of the steps to receive me.
She welcomed me with a hug and a hearty buss, as she called that
salutation, on each cheek, and pulled me into the hall, and was evidently
glad to see me.
'And you're tired a bit, I warrant; and who's the old 'un, who?' she asked
eagerly, in a stage whisper, which made my ear numb for five minutes after.
'Oh, oh, the maid! and a precious old 'un--ha, ha, ha! But lawk! how grand
she is, with her black silk, cloak and crape, and I only in twilled cotton,
and rotten old Coburg for Sundays. Odds! it's a shame; but you'll be tired,
you will. It's a smartish pull, they do say, from Knowl. I know a spell of
it, only so far as the "Cat and Fiddle," near the Lunnon-road.
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