“The fact is, sir, I have been made the guardian of a young gentlewoman, and I find that she is not clothed in the style she should be. Come here to the door, sir, to get out of range of that confounded girl of yours, whose manners might be mended. Now, Mr. Bannister, I have heard your shop well spoken of, and I want proper stuffs for a wardrobe. The—the—you know what I mean—I leave it to you; but show me your cloths and silks and ribbons.”
Mr. Bannister was a man of tact, especially when a gentleman produced a purse. He turned Titsy and the old lady out of the shop, locked the door, and commenced business. John Gore was soon handling all manner of dainty stuffs: silks, brocades, cloth of red and green and blue, cottons, and the like. Mrs. Winnie had truly praised Mr. Bannister’s store of treasures, and the lover soon had all that he listed for the glorifying of his lady.
Gold passed across the counter. Mr. Bannister had begun piling certain dainty linen aside with the mystery of a man of sentiment.
“Can I send these by the carrier, sir?”
“Thanks; my friend and I can take them, if you will cord the stuff so that we can carry it aboard our horses.”
“Very good, sir, very good.”
Mr. Jennifer came in at that moment, his hat on the back of his head and his face trying to kill a grin. Mr. Bannister glanced at him a little severely, and was more surprised to see the stranger own him as the friend he had referred to.
“What be all these doings here, Mister Bannister, in Battle, hey?”
“What doings may you be referring to, Mr. Jennifer?”
“Doings! Why, there be old Squire Oxenham out on his gray ’oss on t’ Green, with a pair of sodgering fellows in red, and half a score yeomen, and Lawyer Gibbs, and a little gen’leman in a great wig, with a face like a raw side of beef.”