‘What, when we are going ourselves?’ said Albinia.
‘Oh! but we can’t.’
‘Why? Do you think we shall break down under the weight?’
‘O no, but people will stare.’
‘Why—what should they stare at?’
‘It looks so to carry a basket—’
Albinia burst into one of her merriest peals of laughing.
‘Not carry a basket! My dear, I have looked so all the days of my life. Bayford must endure the spectacle, so it may as well begin at once.’
‘But, dear mamma—’
‘I’m not asking you to carry it. O no, I only hope you don’t think it too ungenteel to walk with me. But the notion of calling a boy away from his work, to carry a couple of dozen asparagus when an able-bodied woman is going that way herself!’