We went by coach to Oakford. I was not allowed to sit outside on this
journey. It was only a short one, however; and, truth to say, I did
not feel strong enough for any feats of energy, and went meekly enough
into that stuffy hole, the inside! Before following me, Nurse Bundle
gave some directions to the driver, of a kind that could only be
effectual in reference to a small place where everybody was known.
"Coachman! Oakford! And drop us at Mr. Buckle's, please, the saddler."
"High Street, isn't it?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs.
Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch.
"To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown.'"
With which Mrs. Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted
workbag, and clambered into the coach.
There were two other "insides." One of these never spoke at all during
the journey. The other only spoke once, and he seems to have been
impelled thereto by a three hours' contemplation of the contrast
between my slim, wasted little figure, and Nurse Bundle's portly
person, as we sat opposite to him. He was a Scotchman, and I fancy "in
business."
"You're weel matched to sit on the one side," was his remark.
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