But learning, as he soon did at the stables, that the Admiral was still
away, and both the young ladies were gone for a ride with Miss Twemlow,
the gardener came back in a rage, and rang the bell. "Oh, whatever shall
I do?" the trembling Mary asked herself. "Best take the upper hand if
I can. He's a thief, and a rogue, and he ought to be frighted. Does
he know I can't write? No, for certain he dothn't. One of his big lies
about me was a letter I wrote to poor Jonadab."
With her courage renewed by the sense of that wrong, she opened the
door, and stood facing Mr. Swipes, with a piece of paper in her hand,
which a woman's quick wit bade her fetch from her pocket.
"Halloa, madam!" the gardener exclaimed, with a sweep of his hat and
a low salute, which he meant to be vastly satirical; "so your ladyship
have come to take the air in my poor garden, instead of tending the
spit. And what do your ladyship think of it, so please you? Sorry as I
had any dung about, but hadn't no warning of this royal honour."
"Sir," said Mrs. Knuckledown, pretending to be frightened a great deal
more than she was--"oh, sir, forgive me! I am sure I meant no harm. But
the fowls was running in, and I ran up to stop them."
"Oh, that was how your ladyship condescended; and to keep out the fowls,
you locked out me! Allow me the royal and unapparelled honour of showing
your ladyship to her carriage; and if I ever catch her in here again,
I'll pitch you down the court-yard pretty quick.
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