Read My Lady Ludlow for Free Online

Or else, in general,
she made these rides very pleasant (to those who were not qualmish with
riding backwards), by talking to us in a very agreeable manner, and
telling us of the different things which had happened to her at various
places,—at Paris and Versailles, where she had been in her youth,—at
Windsor and Kew and Weymouth, where she had been with the Queen, when
maid-of-honour—and so on. But this day she did not talk at all. All at
once she put her head out of the window.
    "John Footman," said she, "where are we? Surely this is Hareman's
Common."
    "Yes, an't please my lady," said John Footman, and waited for further
speech or orders. My lady thought a while, and then said she would have
the steps put down and get out.
    As soon as she was gone, we looked at each other, and then without a word
began to gaze after her. We saw her pick her dainty way in the little
high-heeled shoes she always wore (because they had been in fashion in
her youth), among the yellow pools of stagnant water that had gathered in
the clayey soil. John Footman followed, stately, after; afraid too, for
all his stateliness, of splashing his pure white stockings. Suddenly my
lady turned round and said something to him, and he returned to the
carriage with a half-pleased, half-puzzled air.
    My lady went on to a cluster of rude mud houses at the higher end of the
Common; cottages built, as they were occasionally at that day, of wattles
and clay, and thatched with sods. As far as we could make out from dumb
show, Lady Ludlow saw enough of the interiors of these places to make her
hesitate before entering, or even speaking to any of the children who
were playing about in the puddles. After a pause, she disappeared into
one of the cottages. It seemed to us a long time before she came out;
but I dare say it was not more than eight or ten minutes. She came back
with her head hanging down, as if to choose her way,—but we saw it was
more in thought and bewilderment than for any such purpose.
    She had not made up her mind where we should drive to when she got into
the carriage again. John Footman stood, bare-headed, waiting for orders.
    "To Hathaway. My dears, if you are tired, or if you have anything to do
for Mrs. Medlicott, I can drop you at Barford Corner, and it is but a
quarter of an hour's brisk walk home."
    But luckily we could safely say that Mrs. Medlicott did not want us; and
as we had whispered to each other, as we sat alone in the coach, that
surely my lady must have gone to Job Gregson's, we were far too anxious
to know the end of it all to say that we were tired. So we all set off
to Hathaway. Mr. Harry Lathom was a bachelor squire, thirty or thirty-
five years of age, more at home in the field than in the drawing-room,
and with sporting men than with ladies.
    My lady did not alight, of course; it was Mr. Lathom's place to wait upon
her, and she bade the butler,—who had a smack of the gamekeeper in him,
very unlike our own powdered venerable fine gentleman at Hanbury,—tell
his master, with her compliments, that she wished to speak to him. You
may think how pleased we were to find that we should hear all that was
said; though, I think, afterwards we were half sorry when we saw how our
presence confused the squire, who would have found it bad enough to
answer my lady's questions, even without two eager girls for audience.
    "Pray, Mr. Lathom," began my lady, something abruptly for her,—but she
was very full of her subject,—"what is this I hear about Job Gregson?"
    Mr. Lathom looked annoyed and vexed, but dared not show it in his words.
    "I gave out a warrant against him, my lady, for theft,—that is all. You
are doubtless aware of his character; a man who sets nets and springes in
long cover, and fishes wherever he takes a fancy. It is but a short step
from poaching to thieving."
    "That is quite true," replied Lady Ludlow (who had a horror of poaching
for this very reason): "but I imagine you do not send a man to gaol on
account of