The
driver, a man of twenty-three or twenty-four, was, as he presently
told Ralph, stable-helper at Penfold Hall.
"I generally drive this trap when it is wanted," he said. "The
coachman is pretty old now. He has been in the family well-nigh fifty
years. He is all right behind the carriage-horses, he says, but he
does not like trusting himself in a pair-wheel trap."
"How far is it?"
"A matter of fifteen miles. It would be a lot shorter if you had got
off last night at the nearest point the coach goes to; but the master
told the coachman that he thought it would be pleasanter for you to
come on here than to arrive there tired and sleepy after dark."
"Yes, it will much more pleasant," Ralph said. "The road was very
dirty, and I should not like to arrive at a strange house with my
clothes all covered with dust, and so sleepy that I could hardly keep
my eyes open, especially as I hear that Mr. Penfold's sisters are
rather particular."
"Rather isn't the word," the driver said; "they are particular, and no
mistake. I don't believe as the master would notice whether the
carriage was dirty or clean; but if there is a speck of dirt about
they are sure to spot it. Not that they are bad mistresses; but they
look about all right, I can tell you, pretty sharp. I don't say that
it ain't as well as they do, for the master never seems to care one
way or the other, and lets things go anyhow.
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