At least, so I conjecture; for,
instead of the busy clatter usual in the operation, we tied on our
cloaks as sadly as mutes at a funeral. Miss Matty drew the
curtains round the windows of the chair to shut out disagreeable
sights, and the men (either because they were in spirits that their
labours were so nearly ended, or because they were going down
hill), set off at such a round and merry pace, that it was all Miss
Pole and I could do to keep up with them. She had breath for
nothing beyond an imploring "Don't leave me!" uttered as she
clutched my arm so tightly that I could not have quitted her, ghost
or no ghost. What a relief it was when the men, weary of their
burden and their quick trot, stopped just where Headingley Causeway
branches off from Darkness Lane! Miss Pole unloosed me and caught
at one of the men -
"Could not you--could not you take Miss Matty round by Headingley
Causeway?--the pavement in Darkness Lane jolts so, and she is not
very strong."
A smothered voice was heard from the inside of the chair -
"Oh! pray go on! What is the matter? What is the matter? I will
give you sixpence more to go on very fast; pray don't stop here."
"And I'll give you a shilling," said Miss Pole, with tremulous
dignity, "if you'll go by Headingley Causeway.
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