Free Charity Girl by Georgette Heyer

the springs.
       Miss Steane, sinking back against the squabs, uttered a sigh of relief. 'Oh, how comfortable this is!' she said thankfully.
       'Have you trudged all the way from Maplewood?'
       'No, no! I was so fortunate as to have been given a lift to Froyle, in a tax-cart, so I have only been obliged to walk for six or seven miles, and I shouldn't regard that in the least if I weren't burdened with this portmanteau. And I must own I wish my pelisse wasn't quite worn out, so that I might have worn it instead of this dreadful cloak.'
       'It is certainly not the thing for such a warm day,' he agreed.
       'No, but I thought I should wear it, in case it comes on to rain, or I felt chilly when the sun goes down.'
       'When the sun goes down – ! You absurd child, you are surely not meaning to continue walking till nightfall?'
       'No – at least – Well, I thought I should have been able to travel on the stage-coach, but – but when it reached Alton it was cram-full, and of course I hadn't booked a seat, so I wasn't on the way-bill, and the guard wouldn't take me up. And even if there had been room I found that I hadn't quite enough money to pay for the fare. But I daresay I shall be able to get a lift on a carrier's wagon: they will often take people up, you know, and for no more than a shilling or two. And if I don't I shall go on for as long as I can, and then find a lodging for the night in some respectable farmhouse.'
       The Viscount's reflections on the sort of reception she was likely to meet at a respectable farmhouse he kept to himself, merely asking her where she proposed to lodge when she did reach London.
       'I am going to my grandfather,' she replied, a hint of defiance in her voice.
       'Indeed! May I ask if he knows it?'
       'Well – well, not yet!' she confessed.
       He drew an audible breath, and said rather grimly: 'Yes, well, we will postpone further discussion until we get to Farn borough, when I must hope to be able to convince you that this scheme of yours won't do, my child!'
       'You won't convince me!' she said, betraying signs of agitation. 'Oh, pray don't try, sir! It is the only thing I can do! Yo u don't understand!'
       'Then you shall explain it to me,' he said cheerfully.
       She said no more, but groped in the folds of her cloak for the pocket which held her handkerchief. He was afraid that she was going to cry, and suffered a moment's dismay. He was not chicken-hearted, but he found himself quite unable to face with equanimity the prospect of driving a lady in floods of tears along a busy post-road. However, she bravely suppressed all but one small sob, and did no more than blow her nose. He was moved to say, for her encouragement: 'Good girl!' glancing down at her as he spoke, and smiling.
       Of necessity it was a very brief glance, but as he turned his head back again to watch the road he caught a glimpse of the wavering, would-be valiant smile which answered his, and it wrung his heart.
       In a few minutes Farnborough was reached, and he had drawn up in front of the Ship. Not many persons patron ized this small post-house, so the landlord, who came out to welcome a recog nizable member of the Quality, was saddened, but not surprised, when the Viscount, handing Miss Steane into his care, told him that they had stopped only to bait. 'Anyone in the coffee-room?' he asked.
       'No, sir, no one – not at the moment! But if your hon our would wish to partake of refreshment in the private parlour – '
       'No, the coffee-room will do very well. Some lemonade for the lady, and cold meat – cakes – fruit – whatever you have! And a tankard of beer for myself, if you please!' He looked down at Miss Steane, and said: 'Go in, my dear: I'll be with you in a moment.'
       He watched her enter the inn, and turned to issue a few instructions to Stebbing, standing at the wheelers' heads. Stebbing received these with a wooden: 'Very