“Just so. Well, she lives about a mile away, on the Plainfield Road.”
“Can you take me there?”
“Well, as you ain’t over and above hefty, I guess the horses can manage it,” added the driver, humorously. “Just hop on. We’ll be starting directly.”
Paul got on the front seat with the driver, feeling disposed to a social chat with that personage. There was but one other passenger, a lady, who was bound for the hotel.
“Are you going to visit the widder?” asked the knight of the whip.
“I am expecting to stay at her house a little while.”
“I suppose you know her?”
“No, I have never seen her. I bring a letter from her niece in New York, Mrs. Louisa Holbrook.”
“I’ve heard tell of her. She was down here a week last summer. I guess she and the housekeeper couldn’t hitch hosses.”