“Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?—ten miles in little more than an hour,” said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
“More speed than we needed,” said she, with a melancholy smile, while she placed some silver in his hand.
“What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,” said he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
“It's French money,” said she, “and unfortunately I have got none other left me.”
“Sure they'll give you what you want inside,” said he, pointing towards the house.
“No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change it for you in the town.” And so saying, she turned towards the door. When she made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painful irresolution seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned the handle and entered.
“We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me,” said her stepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
“There was no time to apprise you,” said Kate, as she walked towards the fire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
“You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant—was there any reason—”
“I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea only gave her consent on Tuesday last,—I think it was Tuesday; but my head is not very clear, for I am somewhat tired.” There was an indescribable sadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in the sigh which followed them.