The next question was—How was the visit to be paid? Four miles was a distance too great to be traversed on foot by Cecilia Bardon.
“We could get a neat clarence from Pelton,” suggested the lady.
“Pelton!” exclaimed the doctor,—“why, Pelton is six miles off! You’ll not find me paying for a clarence to go twenty miles to carry me to a place to which I could walk any fine morning. I’ve not money to fling away after that fashion.”
“If only the Aumerles kept a carriage!” sighed Cecilia.
“If they kept fifty I’d not ask for the loan of one,” said the doctor, with all the pride of poverty.
“Dear me! how shall we ever get to Dashleigh Hall!” cried Cecilia.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll hire our neighbour the farmer’s donkey-chaise,—that won’t ruin even a poor man like me.”
“A donkey-chaise!” exclaimed Miss Bardon in horror.
“Why, you’ve been glad enough of it before now to carry you over to Pelton, when you had shopping to do in the town.”