They slept the first night at The Checkers Inn at Tunbridge, a fine timber and plaster house whose great gables overhung the street. The next day they rode on to The Wells, where many fashionable folk still lingered, enjoying the autumn sunshine and the country air. Mr. Pepys contrived to hire one of the little wooden cottages upon The Common for the night, a step that saved them riding off to Speldhurst. The Secretary appeared chiefly delighted with the fair held near The Pantiles, where pretty country girls sold fruit and flowers and garden stuff, and robbed their customers coquettishly, being not so simple as they seemed. Mr. Pepys proved such a zealous marketeer that he came away with a boy carrying a big basket, in which were three cabbages, a gallon of apples, two pounds of butter, a chicken and a duck, some home-made cakes, several bunches of ribbons, and a bottle of gooseberry wine. “What the deuce to do with the stuff?” That was a problem that made him laugh most heartily. And being an ingenious wag he went down in the evening with the basket to a little pavilion where some of the quality were playing cards by candle-light, and, soon finding friends there, he sat down and played ombre till he had lost three guineas. Then came the jest of protesting that he must pay his debts “in kind,” and the duck and the cabbages and the butter were hauled forth out of the basket. The bottle of gooseberry cordial was the only thing they took back with them to the cottage on The Common, and they shared it between them, finding it far stronger and more fiery than they had expected. Mr. Pepys had a religious fit next morning when they rode on toward Lamberhurst to condole with the ugly cousin over her losses. It proved to be a smoky village in a valley, with a little stream running through it and a good inn near the bridge. Mr. Pepys established himself at the inn, swearing that he would cause Cousin Jane no extra expense; for her cooking would have caused a second revolt in heaven—at least, so he told John Gore. He appeared in need of a comfortable cup of mulled wine when he returned from calling upon the relative, who lived in a dull little house up the hill. Mr. Pepys confessed that she had talked five gold pieces out of him, and he went to bed so surlily that the officious insects, if there were any in the place, remained at a discreet and respectful distance.