“No, I suppose it’s not,” said the free trader thoughtfully.
“You see, if I were a man I could be a highwayman, or a smuggler like you. I expect you have had many, many adventures.”
“I have,” said the young man rather ruefully. “So many that I’m devilish tired of ’em.”
“But I have had only this one small adventure, and I am not yet tired. That is why I am going to London.”
“If you take my advice,” said the young man, “you’ll give up this notion of being a governess. Try something else!”
“Well, perhaps I will be a milliner,” said Eustacie. “When I get to London I shall consider carefully what is best for me to do.”
“Yes, but you aren’t going to London tonight,” he said.
“I am going tonight! You do not understand! If I do not go tonight I shall be found, and then I shall have to go to Bath to play backgammon, and be married to a person without sensibility!”
He seemed to be much struck by this, and said seriously: “No, that would be too bad. We must think of something. You’ll have to stay with me, at least till Abel reports all clear, of course, but there’s bound to be a London coach through Hand Cross in the morning.”
“And I tell you that in the morning it will be too late!” said Eustacie crossly. “I find that you are quite abominable! You spoil everything, and, what is more, I think you are excessively impertinent, because you have taken my horse away and stolen my pistol!”