Christie, with a handkerchief tied over her cap, gently pacing the
narrow garden-walks, he assumed an air of excessive astonishment.
"Yes, Mr. Carnegie, sir, I'm up and out," she announced in a tone of no
thanks to anybody. "I felt a sing'lar wish to taste the air, and my boy
says, 'Go out, mother; it will do you more good than anything.' I could
enjoy a ride in a chaise, but folks that make debts can afford to behave
very handsome to themselves in a many things that them that pays ready
money has to be mean enough to do without. Jones's wife has her rides,
but if her husband would pay for the repair of the spring-cart that was
mended fourteen months ago come Martinmas, there'd be more sense in
that."
"Don't matter, my good soul! Walking is better than riding any fine day,
if you have got the strength," said the doctor briskly.
"Yes, sir; there's that consolation for them that is not rich and loves
to pay their way. I hope to walk to church next Sunday, please the Lord.
And if a word could be given to Mr. Wiley not to play so on the
feelings, it would be a mercy. He do make such awful faces, and allude
to sudden death and accidents and the like, as is enough to give an
ailing person a turn. I said to Mrs. Bunny, 'Mary,' I said, 'don't you
go to hear him; leastways, sit by the door if you must, and don't stop
for the sermon: it might make that impression it would do the babe a
mischief.
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