Miggs hearing the sound
of wheels was at the door immediately.
'Here they are, Simmun! Here they are!' cried Miggs, clapping her
hands, and issuing forth to help her mistress to alight. 'Bring a
chair, Simmun. Now, an't you the better for it, mim? Don't you feel more
yourself than you would have done if you'd have stopped at home? Oh,
gracious! how cold you are! Goodness me, sir, she's a perfect heap of
ice.'
'I can't help it, my good girl. You had better take her in to the fire,'
said the locksmith.
'Master sounds unfeeling, mim,' said Miggs, in a tone of commiseration,
'but such is not his intentions, I'm sure. After what he has seen of you
this day, I never will believe but that he has a deal more affection
in his heart than to speak unkind. Come in and sit yourself down by the
fire; there's a good dear--do.'
Mrs Varden complied. The locksmith followed with his hands in his
pockets, and Mr Tappertit trundled off with the chaise to a neighbouring
stable.
'Martha, my dear,' said the locksmith, when they reached the parlour,
'if you'll look to Dolly yourself or let somebody else do it, perhaps it
will be only kind and reasonable. She has been frightened, you know, and
is not at all well to-night.
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