"Where are you going this morning? I saw Murgatroyd saddling your horse in the yard."
"To Whinbury. It is market day."
"Mr. Yorke is going too. I met him in his gig. Come home with him."
"Why?"
"Two are better than one, and nobody dislikes Mr. Yorke—at least, poor people do not dislike him."
"Therefore he would be a protection to me, who am hated?"
"Who are misunderstood. That, probably, is the word. Shall you be late?—Will he be late, Cousin Hortense?"
"It is too probable. He has often much business to transact at Whinbury. Have you brought your exercise-book, child?"
"Yes.—What time will you return, Robert?"
"I generally return at seven. Do you wish me to be at home earlier?"