I know not why it was, but her words gave me comfort; while at the same time the state of single-blessedness appeared to me far less attractive than it had a few hours before! I was on the point of asking her about my aunt, when the door again opened and there stood before us a slovenly-looking man, attired in a slouched hat, muddy pantaloons, grey coat, and huge cow-hide boots. So complete was the metamorphosis that neither of us recognized him, until he had exclaimed, as his eye fell upon Ada, “Good Heavens, Ade! How came you here?” Then we knew it was Herbert Langley! So astonished was I that it was some time ere I found voice to return his rather noisy greeting. Try as he would, he could not conceal the fact that he was rather disconcerted at being seen by Ada in such a plight, and after a little he stammered out an apology, saying he was a _farmer_ now, and lived in the country, and of course could not be expected to dress as he used in the city. This, I knew, was no excuse, and I trembled lest he might be changed in more points than one. “How is your wife, Mrs. Langley?” asked Ada, in a mocking, deferential tone. Instantly the whole expression of Herbert’s face was changed, and there was a look of tenderness and pride in his eyes as he advanced towards Ada, and whispered in her ear something which I did not understand. Whatever it was, it made her blush, as she replied rather sneeringly, “Of course I congratulate you.” It has always been my misfortune to be rather stupid in some matters, and I had not the least idea what either of them meant, or why Herbert was to be congratulated. Possibly I might have asked an explanation, but just then the town clock struck the hour of one, and turning towards me, he said, it was time we were on our way, for the fall rains had made the roads almost impassable, and he was afraid we should not reach home before dark. “So put on your things quick,” he added. “The _carriage_ is all ready.” This last he said laughingly, for the carriage proved to be a long lumber wagon, such as is seldom found in Massachusetts, or at least, _I_ had never seen one like it before, and it became a serious question in my mind as to _how_ I was expected to enter it, there being no possible way of doing so, save by climbing over the _wheels_, which were reeking with mud. Herbert seemed to enjoy my embarrassment, for he asked me if “I didn’t think I could step from the ground into the box,” a distance of several feet? I was soon relieved from my difficulty by the porter, who placed before me some wooden steps, on which I mounted safely, and seated myself in the large arm-chair, which, with its warm buffalo-robes, was really more comfortable than the old-fashioned one-horse wagons of New England, though I did not think so then; and when the spirited horses, at a crack from Herbert’s whip, sprang forward, while I, losing my balance, pitched over backward, I began to cry, wishing in my heart that I was back in Meadow Brook.