An hour later Cripplestraw shambled again into the passage, on the same errand.
‘Maister’s very poorly, and he hopes that you’ll come, Mis’ess Anne. He wants to see ’ee very particular about the French.’
Anne would have gone in a moment, but for the fear that some one besides the farmer might encounter her, and she answered as before.
Another hour passed, and the wheels of a vehicle were heard. Cripplestraw had come for the third time, with a horse and gig; he was dressed in his best clothes, and brought with him on this occasion a basket containing raisins, almonds, oranges, and sweet cakes. Offering them to her as a gift from the old farmer, he repeated his request for her to accompany him, the gig and best mare having been sent as an additional inducement.
‘I believe the old gentleman is in love with you, Anne,’ said her mother.
‘Why couldn’t he drive down himself to see me?’ Anne inquired of Cripplestraw.
‘He wants you at the house, please.’
‘Is Mr. Festus with him?’
‘No; he’s away to Budmouth.’
‘I’ll go,’ said she.