ran away
to tell her mother that the gentleman was come home so nice. Then he
ordered a special repast from John Prater's--for John, on the strength
of all his winter dinners, had now painted on his sign-board "Universal
Victualler," caring not a fig for the offence to Cheeseman, who never
came now to have a glass with him, and had spoiled all the appetite
inspired by his windows through the dismal suggestions of his rash act
on the premises. Instead of flattening their noses and opening their
mouths, and exclaiming, "Oh, shouldn't I like a bit of that?" the
children, if they ventured to peep in at all, now did it with an anxious
hope of horrors, and a stealthy glance between the hams and bacon for
something that might be hanging up among the candles. And the worst of
it was that the wisest man in the village had failed to ascertain as yet
"the reason why 'a doed it." Until that was known, the most charitable
neighbours could have no hope of forgiving him.

Miss Dolly Darling had not seen her hero of romance for a long time; but
something told her--or perhaps somebody--that he was now at hand; and to
make sure about it, she resolved to have a walk. Faith was very busy, as
the lady of the house, in preparing for a visitor, the mother of Blyth
Scudamore, whom she, with her usual kindness, intended to meet and bring
back from the coach-road that evening; for no less than three coaches
a day passed now within eight miles of Springhaven, and several of the
natives had seen them. Dolly was not to go in the carriage, because
nobody knew how many boxes the visitor might bring, inasmuch as she was
to stop ever so long. "I am tired of all this fuss," cried Dolly; "one
would think Queen Charlotte was coming, at the least; and I dare
say nearly all her luggage would go into the door-pocket. They are
dreadfully poor; and it serves them right, for being so dreadfully
honest."

"If you ever fall into poverty," said Faith, "it will not be from that
cause. When you get your money, you don't pay your debts. You think that
people should be proud to work for you for nothing. There is one house
I am quite ashamed to pass by with you. How long have you owed poor
Shoemaker Stickfast fifteen shillings and sixpence? And you take
advantage of him, because he dare not send it in to father."

"Fashionable ladies never pay their debts," Dolly answered, as she spun
round on one light heel, to float out a new petticoat that she was very
proud of;