Notary, Mr. Witherden, where Mr. Garland was to be found. She had no
bonnet, only a great cap on her head, which in some old time had been
worn by Sally Brass;--and her shoes being extremely large and slipshod,
flew off every now and then, and were difficult to find. Indeed the poor
little creature experienced so much trouble and delay from having to
grope for them in the mud, and suffered so much jostling, pushing, and
squeezing in these researches, that between it, and her fear of being
recognized by some one, and carried back by force to the Brasses, when
she at last reached the Notary's office, she was fairly worn out, and
could not refrain from tears. But to have got there was a comfort, and
she found Mr. Abel in the act of entering his pony-chaise and driving
away. There was nothing for her to do but to run after the chaise and
call to Mr. Abel to stop. Being out of breath, she was unable to make
him hear. The case was desperate, for the pony was quickening his pace.
The Marchioness hung on behind for a few moments, and feeling she could
go no farther, clambered by a vigorous effort into the hinder seat,
where she remained in silence, until she had to some degree recovered
her breath, and become accustomed to the novelty of her position, when
she uttered close into Mr. Abel's ear the words,--

"I say, sir."

He turned his head quickly enough then, and stopping the pony, cried
with some trepidation, "God bless me! what is this?"

"Don't be frightened, sir," replied the still panting messenger. "Oh,
I've run such a way after you!"

"What do you want with me?" said Mr. Abel. "How did you come here?"