corroborated this statement by enunciating in a deep voice: 'That's right!'
Instinct took Sir Richard's hand to his cravat; his fingers told him that it was considerably crumpled, like the tails of his blue coat. His curly-brimmed beaver seemed to add to the discomfort of his aching head; he took it off, and clasped his head in his hands, trying to throw off the lingering wisps of sleep. 'Good God!' he said thickly. 'Where are we?'
'Well, I am not quite sure, but we have passed Reading,' replied Pen, rather anxiously surveying him.
'Calcot Green, that's where we are,' volunteered the large man. 'Stopped to set down someone. They ain't a-worriting theirselves over the time-bill, that's plain. I dare say the coachman's stepped down for a drink.'
'Ah, well!' said his wife tolerantly. 'It'll be thirsty work, setting up on the box in the sun like he has to.'
"That's right,' agreed the large man.
'If the Company was to hear of it he would be turned off, and very rightly!' said the clerk, sniffing. 'The behaviour of these stage-coachmen is becoming a scandal.'
'I'm sure there's no call for people to get nasty if a man falls behind his time-bill a little,' said the woman. 'Live and let live, that's what I say.'
Her husband assented to this in his usual fashion. The coach lurched forward again, and Pen said, under cover of the noise of the wheels and the horses' hooves: 'You kept on telling me that you were drunk, and now I see that you were. I was afraid you would regret coming with me.'
Sir Richard raised his head from his hands. 'Drunk I most undoubtedly must have been, but I regret nothing except the brandy. When does this appalling vehicle reach Bristol?'
'It isn't one of the fast coaches, you know. They don't engage to cover much above eight miles an hour. I think we ought to be in Bristol by eleven o'clock. We seem to stop such a number of times, though. Do you mind very much?'
He looked down at her. 'Do you?'
'To tell you the truth,' she confided, 'not a bit! I am enjoying myself hugely. Only I don't want you to be made uncomfortable all for my sake. I quite see that you are sadly out-of-place in a stage-coach.'
'My dear child, you had nothing whatever to do with my present discomfort, believe me. As for my being out-of-place, what, pray, are you?'
The dimples peeped. 'Oh, I am only a scrubby school-boy, after all!'
'Did I say that?' She nodded. 'Well, so you are,' said Sir Richard, looking her over critically. 'Except for—Did I tie that cravat? Yes, I thought I must have. What in the world have you got there?'
'An apple,' replied Pen, showing it to him. "The fat woman who got out just now gave it to me.'
'You are not going to sit there munching it, are you?' demanded Sir Richard.
'Yes, I am. Why shouldn't I? Would you like a bit of it?'
'I should not!' said Sir Richard.
'Well, I am excessively hungry. That was the one thing we forgot.'
'What was?'
'Food,' said Pen, digging her teeth into the apple. 'We ought to have provided ourselves with a basket of things to eat on the journey. I forgot that the stage doesn't stop at posting-houses, like the mail-coaches. At least, I didn't forget exactly, because I never knew it.'
'This must be looked to,' said Sir Richard. 'If you are hungry, you must undoubtedly be fed. What are you proposing to do with the core of that apple?'
'Eat it,' said Pen.
'Repellent brat!' said Sir Richard, with a strong shudder.
He leaned back in his corner, but a tug at his sleeve made him incline his head towards his companion.
'I told these people that you were my tutor,' whispered Pen.
'Of course, a young gentleman in his tutor's charge would be travelling in the common stage,' said Sir Richard, resigning himself to the role of usher.
At the next stage, which was Woolhampton, he roused himself from the languor which threatened to possess him, alighted from the coach, and showed unexpected competence in procuring from the modest inn a very tolerable cold meal for his charge.
Instinct took Sir Richard's hand to his cravat; his fingers told him that it was considerably crumpled, like the tails of his blue coat. His curly-brimmed beaver seemed to add to the discomfort of his aching head; he took it off, and clasped his head in his hands, trying to throw off the lingering wisps of sleep. 'Good God!' he said thickly. 'Where are we?'
'Well, I am not quite sure, but we have passed Reading,' replied Pen, rather anxiously surveying him.
'Calcot Green, that's where we are,' volunteered the large man. 'Stopped to set down someone. They ain't a-worriting theirselves over the time-bill, that's plain. I dare say the coachman's stepped down for a drink.'
'Ah, well!' said his wife tolerantly. 'It'll be thirsty work, setting up on the box in the sun like he has to.'
"That's right,' agreed the large man.
'If the Company was to hear of it he would be turned off, and very rightly!' said the clerk, sniffing. 'The behaviour of these stage-coachmen is becoming a scandal.'
'I'm sure there's no call for people to get nasty if a man falls behind his time-bill a little,' said the woman. 'Live and let live, that's what I say.'
Her husband assented to this in his usual fashion. The coach lurched forward again, and Pen said, under cover of the noise of the wheels and the horses' hooves: 'You kept on telling me that you were drunk, and now I see that you were. I was afraid you would regret coming with me.'
Sir Richard raised his head from his hands. 'Drunk I most undoubtedly must have been, but I regret nothing except the brandy. When does this appalling vehicle reach Bristol?'
'It isn't one of the fast coaches, you know. They don't engage to cover much above eight miles an hour. I think we ought to be in Bristol by eleven o'clock. We seem to stop such a number of times, though. Do you mind very much?'
He looked down at her. 'Do you?'
'To tell you the truth,' she confided, 'not a bit! I am enjoying myself hugely. Only I don't want you to be made uncomfortable all for my sake. I quite see that you are sadly out-of-place in a stage-coach.'
'My dear child, you had nothing whatever to do with my present discomfort, believe me. As for my being out-of-place, what, pray, are you?'
The dimples peeped. 'Oh, I am only a scrubby school-boy, after all!'
'Did I say that?' She nodded. 'Well, so you are,' said Sir Richard, looking her over critically. 'Except for—Did I tie that cravat? Yes, I thought I must have. What in the world have you got there?'
'An apple,' replied Pen, showing it to him. "The fat woman who got out just now gave it to me.'
'You are not going to sit there munching it, are you?' demanded Sir Richard.
'Yes, I am. Why shouldn't I? Would you like a bit of it?'
'I should not!' said Sir Richard.
'Well, I am excessively hungry. That was the one thing we forgot.'
'What was?'
'Food,' said Pen, digging her teeth into the apple. 'We ought to have provided ourselves with a basket of things to eat on the journey. I forgot that the stage doesn't stop at posting-houses, like the mail-coaches. At least, I didn't forget exactly, because I never knew it.'
'This must be looked to,' said Sir Richard. 'If you are hungry, you must undoubtedly be fed. What are you proposing to do with the core of that apple?'
'Eat it,' said Pen.
'Repellent brat!' said Sir Richard, with a strong shudder.
He leaned back in his corner, but a tug at his sleeve made him incline his head towards his companion.
'I told these people that you were my tutor,' whispered Pen.
'Of course, a young gentleman in his tutor's charge would be travelling in the common stage,' said Sir Richard, resigning himself to the role of usher.
At the next stage, which was Woolhampton, he roused himself from the languor which threatened to possess him, alighted from the coach, and showed unexpected competence in procuring from the modest inn a very tolerable cold meal for his charge.
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