d
woman, in whose mind the transitions from GREAT to little, from serious
to trivial, were ludicrously abrupt, 'that was no reason why the old
gentleman should scold me last time he was here, as he did, for as long
as ever he could stand over me, only because I killed a mouse who was
eating my cheese; and, before night, he beat a boy for stealing a piece
of that same cheese; and he would never, when down here, let me set a
mouse-trap.'

'Well, my good woman,' interrupted Lord Colambre, who was little
interested in this affair of the mouse-trap, and nowise curious to
learn more of Mr. Reynolds's domestic economy, 'I'll not trouble you any
farther, if you can be so good as to tell me the road to Toddrington, or
to Little Wickham, I think you call it.'

Little Wickham!' repeated the woman, laughing--' Bless you, sir, where
do you come from?--It's Little Wrestham; surely everybody knows, near
Lantry; and keep the PIKE till you come to the turn at Rotherford, and
then you strike off into the by-road to the left, and then again turn at
the ford to the right. But, if you are going to Toddrington, you don't
go the road to market, which is at the first turn to the left, and the
cross-country road, where there's no quarter, and Toddrington lies--but
for Wrestham, you take the road to market.'

It was some time before our hero could persuade the old woman to stick
to Little Wrestham, or to Toddrington, and not to mix the directions for
the different roads together--he took patience, for his impatience only
confused his director the more. In process of time, he made out, and
wrote down, the various turns that he was to follow, to reach Little
Wrestham; but no human power could get her from Little Wrestham to
Toddrington, though she knew the road perfectly well; but she had, for
the seventeen last years, been used to go 'the other road,' and all the
carriers went that way, and passed the door, and that was all she could
certify.

Little Wrestham, after turning to the left and right as often as his
directory required, our hero happily reached; but, unhappily, he found
no Mr. Reynolds there; only a steward, who gave nearly the same account
of his master as had been given by the old woman, and could not guess
even where the gentleman might now be. Toddrington was as likely as any
place--but he could not say.

'Perseverance against fortune.' To Toddrington our hero proceeded,
through cross-country roads--such roads!--very differen