“My goodness, honey, you will never think of going alone?”
“I must, nurse. There is no reason why I should not. I feel quite equal to the ride. I am going to see my husband.”
“Well, honey, I know if you will do a thing, you will do it! When will you send for me and the luggage, honey?”
“I may come for you and the luggage even to-night.”
“No, you mustn’t, indeed! No use for you to do that, nyther. I reckon I ain’t afraid to stay alone in a decent inn all night for once in a night.”
“Very well, nurse; then you may expect me to come or send for you to-morrow. And now here is my purse—do you pay the landlord and make yourself comfortable. I am going now,” said Drusilla, rising to put on her waterproof cloak.
The nurse helped her on with that and with her overshoes, and then accompanied her down stairs and saw her safely into the old carryall.
“And here’s your umberel, honey. And you driver boy! when the madam gets out, you be sure to hoist the umberel and hold it over her head to ’vent her getting wet.”
“All right, ma’am, I won’t forget to do it,” said the lad, cracking his whip, starting his old horse, and making the dilapidated vehicle rattle and shake, at every turn of the wheels, as if it would drop to pieces.
Drusilla sat back in her seat, uncomfortably jolted in the miserable old carriage over that rough road, until, when about a mile from the house, it actually and hopelessly broke down.