if Gertrude were a fair sample of "good
company," she did not wish to mix in it.

"I have been alway bred up in the Court," Gertrude went on, removing her
hood. "I never was away thence afore. Of course I do conceive that I
am descended to a lower point than heretofore--you have no coach, I dare
wager? yet I looked not to find my new kin donned in sorry camlet and
mean dowlas. Have you any waiting-maid?--or is that piece of civility
[civilisation] not yet crept up into this far corner of the world?"

Clare summoned Jennet, and took her own seat in the further window. The
vulgar, purse-proud tone of Gertrude's remarks disgusted her
exceedingly. She did not enter into all of them. Simple Clare could
not see what keeping a carriage had to do with gentlemanliness.

Jennet came in, and dropped a "lout" to the bride, whom she was disposed
to regard with great reverence as a real lady. At that time, "lady" was
restricted to women of title, the general designation being
"gentlewoman."

"Here, woman!" was Gertrude's peremptory order. "Untwist my hair, and
dress it o'er again."

Jennet quickly untwisted the hair, which was elaborately curled and
frizzed; and when it was reduced to smoothness, asked,--"What mun [must]
I do wi' 't?"

"Eh?" said Gertrude.

"I'm ill set [I find it difficult] to make thore twirls and twists,"
explained Jennet. "Mun I curl 't, or ye'll ha' 't bred?" [Braided,
plaited.]

"What means the jade?" demanded Gertrude with an oath.

Clare was horrified. She had heard men swear when they were in a
passion, and one or two when they were not; but that a woman should
deliberately preface her words with oaths was something new and shocking
to her. Lady Enville's strongest adjurations were mild little
asseverations "by this fair daylight," or words no nearer profanity.
However, startled as she was, Clare came out of her corner to mediate.

"How should it like you dressed?"

"Oh! with the crisping-pins. 'Twill take as short time as any way."

"Wi' whatten a thingcum?" [with what sort of a thing] stared Jennet.

"I am afeared, Sister, we have no crisping-pins," said Clare.

"No crisping-pins!" cried Gertrude, with another oath. "Verily, I might
have come to Barbary! Are you well assured?"

"Be there any manner of irons, Jennet, for crisping or curling the
hair?"

"Nay, Mistress Clare, we're Christians here," said Jennet in her coolest
manner, which was very cool indeed. "We known