DOWN IN DORSETSHIRE.
There were two inns in the High Street of Frimley. The days of mail-coaches were not yet over, and the glory of country inns had not entirely departed. Several coaches passed through Frimley in the course of the day, and many passengers stopped to eat and drink and refresh themselves at the quaint old hostelries; but it was not often that the old-fashioned bed-chambers were occupied, even for one night, by any one but a commercial traveller; and it was a still rarer occurrence for a visitor to linger for any time at Frimley.
There was nothing to see in the place; and any one travelling for pleasure would have chosen rather to stay in the more picturesque village of Hallgrove.
It was therefore a matter of considerable surprise to the landlady of the "Rose and Crown," when a lady and her maid alighted from the "Highflyer" coach and demanded apartments, which they would be likely to occupy for a week or more.
The lady was so plainly attired, in a dress and cloak of dark woollen stuff, and the simplest of black velvet bonnets, that it was only by her distinguished manner, and especially graceful bearing, that Mrs. Tippets, the landlady, was able to perceive any difference between the mistress and the maid.
"I am travelling in Dorsetshire for my health," said the lady, who was no other than Honoria Eversleigh, "and the quiet of this place suits me. You will be good enough to prepare rooms for myself and my maid."
"You would like your maid's bed-room to be adjoining your own, no doubt, madam?" hazarded the landlady.
"No," answered Honoria; "I do not wish that; I prefer entire privacy in my own apartment."
"As you please, madam—we have plenty of bedrooms."
The landlady of the "Rose and Crown" ushered her visitors into the best sitting-room the house afforded—an old-fashioned apartment, with a wide fire-place, high wooden mantel-piece, and heavily-timbered ceiling—a room which seemed to belong to the past rather than the present.