Recollections of a chaperonSullivan, Arabella Jane
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Recollections of a chaperon
Sullivan, Arabella Jane
English fiction -- 19th century
Nicholas continued, “What are you doing in this place? You had much
better come over and dine with us. My father lives little more than
five miles from the town, and will give you a hearty welcome. Do come,
we can give you a bed. Well, certainly, I never thought of meeting you
to-day. How lucky it was I rode over to take a look at the fish-market!
I have got the nicest brill, too.”
Warenne replied that he really should have been happy to accept his
invitation, but that his horses were tired with their day’s work, and
that he was obliged to leave Fisherton at a very early hour on the
following morning.
“Oh! I can arrange all these matters,” said Nicholas. “You shall have
the landlord’s own nag, and a very clever one it is, I can tell you—few
better. And if you must be off so early to-morrow, you can return here
to-night; though if you would stay all night with us we should like it
better, and I would ride over with you in the morning. I shall most
probably come here, for to-morrow is the day when our magistrates hold
their weekly sessions; and if I have nothing else to do, I usually
attend to hear the news. That’s a good fellow; you will come, I see.
I’ll call for you in ten minutes, as soon as I have seen that our cart
takes the brill.”
Warenne, having obtained a loan of the landlord’s horse, was ready to
join Nicholas on his return from the fish-market. They quitted the
town by the coast road, which for rather more than a mile proceeded in
a south-easterly direction. It then bent more to the southward, when
they quitted it, and proceeded along a narrow lane, with high hedges
on each side, keeping the same course as the portion of the road over
which they had already travelled. There was not here much opportunity
for observation; and Warenne, willingly diverting his thoughts from the
disagreeable lucubrations to which his landlord’s discourse had given
rise, entered unreservedly into conversation with his old schoolfellow.
He answered Nicholas’s questions concerning his different campaigns,
and in return sought to extract from him the history of his past and
present life.
“You went,” said he, “to Oxford, if I recollect rightly, after you left
Eton?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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