‘And his borough interest?’

‘My father had no borough interest,’ said I; ‘had he possessed any, he would perhaps not have died, as he did, honourably poor.’

‘No, no,’ said the postilion, ‘if he had had borough interest, he wouldn’t have been poor, nor honourable, though perhaps a right honourable. However, with your grand education and genteel manners, you made all right at last by persuading this noble young gentlewoman to run away from boarding-school with you.’

‘I was never at boarding-school,’ said Belle, ‘unless you call - ‘

‘Ay, ay,’ said the postilion, ‘boarding-school is vulgar, I know: I beg your pardon, I ought to have called it academy, or by some other much finer name - you were in something much greater than a boarding- school.’

‘There you are right,’ said Belle, lifting up her head and looking the postilion full in the face by the light of the charcoal fire, ‘for I was bred in the workhouse.’

‘Wooh!’ said the postilion.

‘It is true that I am of good - ‘

‘Ay, ay,’ said the postilion, ‘let us hear - ‘

‘Of good blood,’ continued Belle; ‘my name is Berners, Isopel Berners, though my parents were unfortunate. Indeed, with respect to blood, I believe I am of better blood than the young man.’

‘There you are mistaken,’ said I; ‘by my father’s side I am of Cornish blood, and by my mother’s of brave French Protestant extraction. Now, with respect to the blood of my father - and to be descended well on the father’s side is the principal thing - it is the best blood in the world, for the Cornish blood, as the proverb says - ‘

‘I don’t care what the proverb says,’ said Belle; ‘I say my blood is the best - my name is Berners, Isopel Berners - it was my mother’s name, and is better, I am sure, than any you bear, whatever that may be; and though you say that the descent on the fathers side is the principal thing - and I know why you say so,’ she added with some excitement - ‘I say that descent on the mother’s side is of most account, because the mother - ‘

‘Just come from Gretna Green, and already quarrelling!’ said the postilion.

‘We do not come from Gretna Green,’ said Belle.

‘Ah, I had forgot,’ said the postilion; ‘none but great people go to Gretna Green. Well, then, from church, and already quarrelling about family, just like two great people.’

‘We have never been to church,’ said Belle; ‘and to prevent any more guessing on your part, it will be as well for me to tell you, friend, that I am nothing to the young man, and he, of course, nothing to me. I am a poor travelling girl, born in a workhouse: journeying on my occasions with certain companions, I came to this hollow, where my company quarrelled with the young man, who had settled down here, as he had a right to do if he pleased; and not being able to drive him out, they went away after quarrelling with me, too, for not choosing to side with them; so I stayed here along with the young man, there being room for us both, and the place being as free to me as to him.’

‘And in order that you may be no longer puzzled with respect to myself,’ said I; ‘I will give you a brief outline of my history. I am the son of honourable parents, who gave me a first-rate education, as far as literature and languages went, with which education I endeavoured, on the death of my father, to