So I sat down over against her, and we looked at each other very stiff. She was short and fat, with round blue Eyes, and a rosy Complexion; and had a sharper, shrewder Look than the Squire.
“I dare say she’s hungry, Mother,” says the Squire; “give her a Piece of Gingerbread or Something.—How soon shall we have Supper?”
“You are always in such a Hurry, Father, to be eating;” says his Lady. “Forsooth, are we not to wait for your Brother?”
And without waiting for his Answer, she took a bunch of Keys from her Apron-string, and unlocked a little Corner-cupboard, from which she brought me a Slice of rich Seed-cake, and a large Glass of Wine.
“Thank you, Madam; I am not hungry,” said I.
“Pooh! Child, you must be;” returns she, rather authoritatively. “Never be afraid of eating and drinking before Company, as if it were a Crime!”
So, thus admonished, I ate and drank: though I would as lief have waited a little.
“Are you stiff with your Ride?” says she.
“A little, Madam,” said I; “for I was ne’er on a Horse before.”
“Is it possible,” cries she, bursting out a-laughing. “Father, did you hear that?”