Publisher's Synopsis
A rickety carriage was slowly ascending the hill, and from the place of honour on theback seat, the single passenger surveyed the country with interest and admiration. Thedriver of that ancient chariot was an awkward young fellow, possibly twenty-five years ofage, with sharp knees, large, red hands, high cheek-bones, and abundant hair of a shadeverging upon orange. He was not unpleasant to look upon, however, for he had a certainevident honesty, and he was disposed to be friendly to every one."Be you comfortable, Miss?" he asked, with apparent solicitude."Very comfortable, thank you," was the quiet response. He urged his venerable steeds toa gait of about two miles an hour, then turned sideways.
