"
Betty ran to her father, sat on his knee, twined her arm about his neck,
and kissed him as a protest against the unjust insinuation.
"You see how she does it," said Pickering. "No hammer and tongs for
Betty; just oil and honey."
"And lots and lots of love, father," interrupted Betty.
* * * * *
Well, our journey was soon arranged on a grand scale. Pickering lent us
his new coach, just home from the makers in Cow Street. It was cushioned
and curtained and had springs in place of thorough-braces. It also had
glass in the windows and doors; a luxury then little known in England
even among the nobles. There was a prejudice against its use in coach
windows because of the fact that two or three old ladies had cut their
faces in trying to thrust their heads through it.
The new coach was a wonderful vehicle, and Frances and I, as well as
Betty, were very proud of our grandeur. Pickering sent along with the
coach and horses two lusty fellows as drivers, and gave us a hamper
almost large enough to feed a company of soldiers. I was to pay all
expenses on the road.
Almost at the last hour Sir Richard concluded not to go, but insisted
that Frances, Bettina, and I take the journey by ourselves. As Pickering
offered no objection, Frances shrugged her shoulders in assent, I
shrugged mine, and Betty laughed, whereby we all, in our own way, agreed
to the new arrangement, and preparations went forward rapidly.
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