all I see you again?'

'I scarcely know,' I replied: 'I never saw a more splendid turn out.'

'Qu'est ce qu'il dit?' said the lady again.

'Il dit que tout l'equipage est en assez bon gout.'

'Allons, c'est un ours,' said the lady; 'le cheval meme en a peur,' added
she, as the mare reared up on high.

'Can you find nothing else to admire but the mare and the equipage?' said
Francis Ardry, reproachfully, after he had with some difficulty brought
the mare to order.

Lifting my hand, in which I held my stick, I took off my hat. 'How
beautiful!' said I, looking the lady full in the face.

'Comment?' said the lady, inquiringly.

'Il dit que vous etes belle comme un ange,' said Francis Ardry,
emphatically.

'Mais, a la bonne heure! arretez, mon ami,' said the lady to Francis
Ardry, who was about to drive off; 'je voudrais bien causer un moment
avec lui; arretez, il est delicieux.--Est-ce bien ainsi que vous traitez
vos amis?' said she passionately, as Francis Ardry lifted up his whip.
'Bon jour, Monsieur, bon jour,' said she, thrusting her head from the
side and looking back, as Francis Ardry drove off at the rate of thirteen
miles an hour.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

THE MILESTONE--MEDITATION--WANT TO GET UP?--SIXTEEN SHILLINGS--NEAR-HAND
WHEELER--ALL RIGHT

In about two hours I had cleared the Great City, and got beyond the
suburban villages, or rather towns, in the direction in which I was
travelling; I was in a broad and excellent road, leading I knew not
whither. I now slackened my pace, which had hitherto been great.
Presently, coming to a milestone on which was graven nine miles, I rested
against it, and looking round towards the vast city, which had long
ceased to be visible, I fell into a train of meditation.

I thought of all my ways and doings since the day of my first arrival in
that vast city--I had worked and toiled, and, though I had accomplished
nothing at all commensurate with the hopes which I had entertained
previous to my arrival, I had achieved my own living, preserved my
independence, and become indebted to no one. I was now quitting it, poor
in purse, it is true, but not wholly empty; rather ailing it may be, but
not broken in health; and, with hope within my bosom, had I not cause
upon the whole to be thankful? Perhaps there were some who, arriving at
the same time under not more favourable circumstances, had accomplished
much more, and whose future was far more hopeful--Good! But