88
WYLDER'S HAJVD.
"Oh, I'm so glad — here's the finger post, at last!"
and then — " Well, here we are at the " Cat and Fiddle;"
I thought we'd never pass it."
And, at last, the brougham stopped at the little garden-
gate, at the far end of the village; and the good little
mamma called to her maid-of-all-work from the window —
"Has the master come yet, Becky?"
"No, ma'am, please."
And I think she offered up a little thanksgiving she so
longed to give him his tea herself: and then she asked —
"Is our precious mannikin asleep?" Which also be-
ing answered happily, as it should be, she bid her fussy
adieux, with a merry smile, and hurried across the little
flower-garden; and Miss Lake was shut in and drove on
alone, under the thick canopy of old trees, and up the
mill-road, lighted by the flashing lamps, to her own little
precincts, and was, in turn, at home — solitary, triste, but
still her home.
"Get to your bed, Margery, child, you are sleepy,"
said the young. lady kindly to her queer little maid-of-
honor. Rachel was one of those persons who, no matter
what may be upon their minds, are quickly impressible
by the scenes in which they find themselves. She stepped
into her little kitchen — and she looked all round and
smiled pleasantly, and kissed old Tamar, and said —
"So, my dear old fairy, here's your Cinderella home
again from the ball, and I've seen nothing so pretty as
this since I left Redman's Farm. How white your table
is, how nice your chairs; I wish you'd change with ma
and let me be cook week about; and, really the fire is
quite pleasant to-night. Come, make a cup of tea, and
tell us a story, and frighten me and Margery before we
go to our beds. Sit down, Margery, I'm only here by
permission. What do you mean by standing?" And the