“Famous!” said he; and they eyed me as if I were a Curiosity.
“Do you know, now,” says the Squire’s Lady to me, after a while, “I never was in Lunnon!”
“That seems as strange to me, Madam,” said I, “as it seems to you that I should never have been on Horseback.”
“It is strange,” says she. “Both are strange.”
“And now I’ll tell you Something that is strange,” says the Squire, “since we all seem surprising one another. Do you know, Mistress Cherry,” stepping up behind his Wife, and laying a Hand on each of her Shoulders, while he spoke to me over her Head, “that this little round-about Woman was once as pretty a Girl as you are?”
“Stuff! Squire,” says his Lady.
“Fact!” persisted he. “Nay, prettier!”
“Not a Word of Truth in it,” says she, shaking him off. “I was all very well,—nothing more. Come, Father, here’s Gatty going to spread the Cloth for Supper, which you’ll be glad of. But, Gatty, in the first Place shew Mistress Cherry to her Chamber, ... she will perhaps like to dress a little. You’ll excuse my attending you, my Dear; the Stairs try my Breath.”
I followed Gatty up Stairs to the prettiest Room that ever was! When I came down, the Cloth was spread, and the Squire’s Lady signed me to the Chair over against her, and was just going to say Something, when, crossing between me and the Sun, I saw the Shadow of a Man against the Wall, and knew it for Master Blower’s. Ah! what came over me at that Moment, to make me so stupid, I know not.—Perhaps that saucy Saying of Mark’s ... but whatever it was, instead of my going up to Master Blower, when he came in, which he did the next Moment, and asking him simply and straitforwardly how he was, I must needs colour all over like a Goose, and wait till he came quite up to me, without having a Word to say for myself.
“Ah, Cherry!” says he, taking my Hand quite frankly, “how glad I am to see you! Are you quite well?”