“A po-shay!” echoed Humphrey, but, like an Irish echo, with some variation from his original--“Lord help ye, Ma’am, there bean’t such a thing to be had ten miles round--no, not for love nor money. Why, bless ye, it be election time, and there bean’t coach, cart, nor dog-barrow, but what be gone to it!” “No matter,” said the mistress, drawing herself up with an air of lofty resignation. “I revoke my order; for it is far, very far from the kind of riding that I prefer. And Humphrey----” “Yes, Ma’am.” “Another time--” “Yes, Ma’am.” “Remember once for all--” “Yes, Ma’am.” “I do not choose to be blest, or the Lord to help me.” Another pause in our proceedings, during which a company of ragged boys, who had been black-berrying, came up, and planted themselves, with every symptom of vulgar curiosity, around the carriage. Miss Norman had now no single glass through which she could look without encountering a group of low-life faces staring at her with all their might. Neither could she help hearing some such shocking ill-bred remarks as, “Vy don’t the frizzle-vigged old Guy get into the gemman’s drag?” Still the pride of the Normans sustained her. She seemed to draw a sort of supplementary neck out of her bosom, and sat more rigidly erect than ever, occasionally favouring the circle, like a mad bull at bay, with a most awful threatening look, accompanied ever by the same five words: “I CHOOSE to be alone.” It is easy to say choose, but more difficult to have one’s choice. The blackberry boys chose to remain; and in reply to each congé only proved by a general grin how very much teeth are set off to advantage by purple mouths. I confess I took pity on the pangs even of unwarrantable pride, and urged my proposal again with some warmth; but it was repelled with absolute scorn. “Fellow, you are insolent.” “Quis Deus vult perdere,” thought I, and I determined to let her take her fate, merely staying to mark the result. After a tedious interval, in which her mind had doubtless looked abroad as well as inward, it appeared that the rigour of the condition, as to riding only in her own carriage, had been somewhat relaxed to meet the exigency of the case. A fresh tapping at the window summoned the obsequious Humphrey to receive orders. “Present my compliments at the Grove--and the loan of the chariot will be esteemed a favour.” “By your leave, Ma’am, if I may speak--” “You may _not_.”