s a quarter of a mile off, before Tom collected himself; and then
he was waving his hand lustily; and so was she.
'And that's the last of the old finger-post,' thought Tom, straining
his eyes, 'where I have so often stood to see this very coach go by,
and where I have parted with so many companions! I used to compare this
coach to some great monster that appeared at certain times to bear my
friends away into the world. And now it's bearing me away, to seek my
fortune, Heaven knows where and how!'
It made Tom melancholy to picture himself walking up the lane and back
to Pecksniff's as of old; and being melancholy, he looked downwards at
the basket on his knee, which he had for the moment forgotten.
'She is the kindest and most considerate creature in the world,' thought
Tom. 'Now I KNOW that she particularly told that man of hers not to look
at me, on purpose to prevent my throwing him a shilling! I had it ready
for him all the time, and he never once looked towards me; whereas that
man naturally, (for I know him very well,) would have done nothing but
grin and stare. Upon my word, the kindness of people perfectly melts
me.'
Here he caught the coachman's eye. The coachman winked. 'Remarkable fine
woman for her time of life,' said the coachman.
'I quite agree with you,' returned Tom. 'So she is.'
'Finer than many a young 'un, I mean to say,' observed the coachman.
'Eh?'
'Than many a young one,' Tom assented.
'I don't care for 'em myself when they're too young,' remarked the
coachman.
This was a matter of taste, which Tom did not feel himself called upon
to discuss.
'You'll seldom find 'em possessing correct opinions about refreshment,
for instance, when they're too young, you know,' said the coachman; 'a
woman must have arrived at maturity, before her mind's equal to coming
provided with a basket like that.'
'Perhaps you would like to know what it contains?' said Tom, smiling.
As the coachman only laughed, and as Tom was curious himself, he
unpacked it, and put the articles, one by one, upon the footboard. A
cold roast fowl, a packet of ham in slices, a crusty loaf, a piece of
cheese, a paper of biscuits, half a dozen apples, a knife, some butter,
a screw of salt, and a bottle of old sherry. There was a letter besides,
which Tom put in his pocket.
The coachman was so earnest in his approval of Mrs Lupin's provident
habits, and congratulated Torn so warmly on his good fortune, that Tom
felt it
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