“Dear me, how slow the gentleman is,” exclaimed Mrs. Rogers. “Why doesn’t he make haste!”

As the lady spoke these words, Mr. Jackson turned from the coach where he had been addressing some observations to a shabby man in black leggings, who had just emerged from the vehicle with a thick ash stick in his hand, and made his way to the place where the ladies were seated; winding his hair round the brim of his hat, as he came along.

“Is anything the matter? Has anything taken place, Mr. Jackson?” said Mrs. Bardell eagerly.