“Mr Lavender, it will be the pride of my heart to serve Mrs Jenny, though it cost my life.”
He sprang on the brown horse, and Jenny, helped by her father, mounted the pillion behind him. Women very seldom rode alone at that day.
Kate ran after them, as they started, with an old shoe in her hand, which she delivered with such good (or bad) effect that it hit the horse on the ear, and made it shy. Happily, it was a sedate old quadruped, not given to giddy ways, and quickly recovered itself.
“Good luck!” cried Kate, as they rode away.
A second horse followed, ridden by one of Colonel Lane’s stable-boys, carrying Jenny’s two bags.
It was not a mile from the farm to Bentley Hall, and they were soon in the stable-yard, where Jenny alighted, and was taken by Featherstone into the servants’ hall, where with another complimentary flourish he introduced her to the rest of the household.
“My lords and ladies, I have the honour to present to you the Lady Jane Lavender.”
“Now you just get out of my way, with your lords and ladies,” said the cook, pushing by them. “Good even, Jenny. We’ve seen Jenny Lavender afore, every man jack of us.”
Mr Featherstone got out of the way without much delay, for the cook had a gridiron in his hand, and he had been known before now to box somebody’s ears with that instrument.
He recovered his dignity as soon as he could, and suggested that Jenny should go up to the chamber of her new mistress.