The Toll-Gate by Georgette Heyer Page B

said he was welcome to stable Beau in the big barn.
    "Well, that's famous," said John. "You shall show me where it is presently, but first go and see if you can prevail upon Mrs. Skeffling to come up to the toll-house tomorrow. Promise her as many pig's babies as you think necessary, but don't take no for an answer!"
    "What'll I say?" demanded Ben. "She'll think it's a queer set-out, gov'nor, 'cos what would anyone want with her coming to clean the place every day?"
    "You may tell her that your cousin, besides being the worst cook in the Army, has picked up some finical ways in foreign parts. Off with you!"
    "Wait!" interposed Miss Stornaway, who had been listening in considerable amusement. "Perhaps I can help you. I collect you wish Mrs. Skeffling to come to the toll-house each day. Very well! I daresay I can arrange it for you. Go and ask her, Ben, and if she says no, never mind!"
    "Admirable woman!" John said, as Ben went off down the road. "I'm much in your debt! What will you tell her?"
    "Why, that you seem to be a very good sort of a man, but sadly helpless! Have no fear! She will come. Did I not tell you that they call me the Squire? I shall ride down the road directly, to visit her, which is a thing I frequently do. She will tell me, and at length, of your summons, and certainly ask my advice. You may leave the rest to me!"
    "Thank you! Will you assist me in one other matter? I must contrive somehow to ride to Tideswell tomorrow, to make some necessary purchases, and the deuce is in it that I've no notion of what, precisely, I should ask for. I must have some tolerable soap, for instance, but it won't do just to demand soap, will it? Ten to one, I should find myself with something smelling of violets, or worse. Then there's coffee. I can't and I won't drink beer with my breakfast, and barring some porter, the dregs of a bottle of rum, and a bottle of bad tape, that's all I can find in the place. Tell me what coffee I should buy! I'll make a note of it on my list."
    Her eyes were alight. "I think I had better take a look at your list," she decided.
    "Will you? I shall be much obliged to you! I'll fetch it," he said.
    She followed him into the toll-house, and he turned to find her standing in the kitchen doorway, and looking critically about her. "Enough to make poor Mrs. Brean turn in her grave!" she remarked. "She was the neatest creature! However, I daresay Mrs. Skeffling will set it to rights, if she is to come here every day. Is this your list?"
    She held out her hand, and he gave it to her. It made her laugh. "Good heavens, you seem to need a great deal! Candles? Are there none in the store-cupboard?"
    "Yes, tallow dips. Have you ever, ma'am, sat in a small room that was lit by tallow dips?"
    "No, never!"
    "Then take my advice, and do not!"
    "I won't. But wax candles in a kitchen! Mrs. Skeffling will talk of it all over the village. Soap—blacking—brushes—tea——" She raised her eyes from the list. "Pray, how do you propose to convey all these things from Tideswell, Captain Staple?"
    "I imagine there must be a carrier?"
    "But that will not do at all! Conceive of everyone's astonishment if such a quantity of goods were to be delivered to the Crowford gatekeeper! Depend upon it, the news would very soon be all over the county that an excessively strange man had taken Brean's place here. It must come to the ears of the trustee controllers, and you will have them descending on you before you have had time to turn round."
    "I am afraid I am quite cork-brained," said John meekly. "What must I do instead?"
    She glanced at the list again, and then up at him. "I think I had best procure these things for you," she suggested. "That, you see, will occasion no surprise, for I very often go shopping in Tideswell."
    "Thank you," he said, smiling. "But I must buy some shirts, and some shoes and stockings, and you can hardly do that for me, ma'am!"
    "No," she agreed. She considered him anew, and added candidly: "And it will