The good woman had asked them to sit down and rest
themselves while she fetched her husband, who could direct them
better than she could; and, while they were sitting in the sanded
parlour, a little girl came in. They thought that she belonged to
the landlady, and began some trifling conversation with her; but,
on Mrs Roberts's return, she told them that the little thing was
the only child of a couple who were staying in the house. And then
she began a long story, out of which Lady Glenmire and Miss Pole
could only gather one or two decided facts, which were that, about
six weeks ago, a light spring-cart had broken down just before
their door, in which there were two men, one woman, and this child.
One of the men was seriously hurt--no bones broken, only "shaken,"
the landlady called it; but he had probably sustained some severe
internal injury, for he had languished in their house ever since,
attended by his wife, the mother of this little girl. Miss Pole
had asked what he was, what he looked like. And Mrs Roberts had
made answer that he was not like a gentleman, nor yet like a common
person; if it had not been that he and his wife were such decent,
quiet people, she could almost have thought he was a mountebank, or
something of that kind, for they had a great box in the cart, full
of she did not know what.
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