Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
The next day was spent in a wearisome stage-coach, over a rough jolting
road. Ellen's companions did nothing to make her way pleasant, but she
sweetened theirs with her sugar-plums. Somewhat mollified, perhaps,
after that, Miss Margaret condescended to enter into conversation with
her, and Ellen underwent a thorough cross-examination as to all her own
and her parents' affairs, past, present, and future, and likewise as to
all that could be known of her yesterday's friend, till she was heartily
worried and out of patience.
It was just five o'clock when they reached her stopping-place. Ellen
knew of no particular house to go to; so Mrs. Dunscombe set her down at
the door of the principal inn of the town, called the "Star" of
Thirlwall.
The driver smacked his whip, and away went the stage again, and she was
left standing alone beside her trunk before the piazza of the inn,
watching Timmins, who was looking back at her out of the stage window,
nodding and waving good-bye.
CHAPTER IX
_Gadsby._ Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
_2nd Car._ Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee.
--KING HENRY IV.
Ellen had been whirled along over the roads for so many hours,--the
rattle of the stage-coach had filled her ears for so long,--that now,
suddenly still and quiet, she felt half stunned. She stood with a kind
of dreamy feeling, looking after the departing stage-coach. In it there
were three people whose faces she knew, and she could not count a fourth
within many a mile. One of those was a friend, too, as the fluttering
handkerchief of poor Miss Timmins gave token still. Yet Ellen did not
wish herself back in the coach, although she continued to stand and gaze
after it as it rattled off at a great rate down the little street, its
huge body lumbering up and down every now and then, reminding her of
sundry uncomfortable jolts; till the horses making a sudden turn to the
right, it disappeared round a corner. Still for a minute Ellen watched
the whirling cloud of dust it had left behind; but then the feeling of
strangeness and loneliness came over her, and her heart sank. She cast a
look up and down the street. The afternoon was lovely; the slant beams
of the setting sun came back from gilded windows, and the houses and
chimney-tops of the little town were in a glow; but she saw nothing
bright anywhere--in all the glory of the setting sun the little town
looked strange and miserable. There was no sign of her having been
expected; nobody was waiting to meet her. What was to be done next?
Ellen had not the slightest idea.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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