“How do other ladies manage to obtain their boots before the snow comes, instead of after it has melted?”
“Perhaps you will ask them yourself ma’am: I conceive you know all the ladies in Deerbrook. You will find Miss Miskin in that department, ladies, if you wish to investigate.”
Hester invaded the domain of Miss Miskin—the shoe-shop behind the other counter—in the hope of finding something to put on her feet, which should enable her to walk where she pleased. While engaged in turning over the stock, without any help from Miss Miskin, who was imitating Mrs Howell’s distant manner with considerable success, a carriage drove up to the door, which could be no other than Sir William Hunter’s; and Lady Hunter’s voice was accordingly heard, the next minute, asking for green sewing-silk. The gentle drawl of Mrs Howell’s tone conveyed that her countenance had resumed its primary expression. She observed upon the horrors of the fire which had happened at Blickley the night before. Lady Hunter had not heard of it; and the relation therefore followed of: the burning down of a house and shop in Blickley, when a nursemaid and baby were lost in the flames.
“I should hope it is not true,” observed Lady Hunter. “Last night, did you say?—Early this morning? There has scarcely been time for the news to arrive of a fire at Blickley early this morning.”
“It is certainly true, however, my lady. No doubt whatever of the catastrophe, I am grieved to say.” And Mrs Howell’s sighs were sympathetically responded to by Miss Miskin in the back shop.
“But how did you hear it?” asked Lady Hunter.
There was no audible answer. There were probably signs and intimations of something; for Lady Hunter made a circuit round the shop, on some pretence, and stared in at the door of the shoe-parlour, just at the right moment for perceiving, if she so pleased, the beautiful smallness of Hester’s foot. Some low, murmuring, conversation then passed at Mrs Howell’s counter, when the words “black servant” alone met Margaret’s ear.
Hester found nothing that she could wear. The more she pressed for information and assistance about obtaining boots, the more provokingly cool Miss Miskin grew. At last Hester turned to her sister with a hasty inquiry what was to be done.
“We must hope for better fortune before next winter, I suppose,” said Margaret, smiling.
“And wet my feet every day this winter,” said Hester; “for I will not be confined to the high-road for any such reason as this.”