She had heard much of Lady Capel, and she had a certain tenderness for
the old woman who loved her husband so truly; but no thought of her
entered into Katherine's mind that calm evening hour. Neither had she
any presentiment of sorrow. Her soul was happy and untroubled, and she
lingered in the sweet place until the tender touch of gray twilight was
over fen and field. Then her maid, with a manner full of pleasant
excitement, came to her, and said,-"Here be a London pedler, madam; and he do have all the latest fashions,
and the news of the king and the Americans."
Now, for many reasons, the advent of a London pedler was a great and
pleasant event at the Manor House. Katherine had that delightful and
excusable womanly foible, a love of fine clothing; and shops for its
sale were very rare, even in towns of considerable size. It was from
packmen and hawkers that fine ladies bought their laces and ribbons and
gloves; their precious toilet and hair pins, their paints and powders,
and India scarfs and fans, and even jewellery. These hawkers were also
the great news-bearers to the lonely halls and granges and farmhouses;
and they were everywhere sure of a welcome, and of such entertainment as
they required. Generally each pedler had his recognized route and
regular customers; but occasionally a strange dealer called, and such,
having unfamiliar wares, was doubly welcome. "Is it Parkins, Lettice?"
asked Katherine, as she turned with interest toward the house.
"No, ma'am, it isn't Parkins; and I do think as the man never showed a
face in Hyde before; but he do say that he has a miracle of fine
things."
In a few minutes he was exhibiting them to Katherine, and she was too
much interested in the wares to notice their merchant particularly.
Indeed, he had one of those faces which reveal nothing; a face flat,
hard, secret as a wall, wrinkled as an old banner. He was a hale,
thick-set man, dressed in breeches of corduroy, and a sleeved waistcoat
down to his knees of the same material. His fur cap was on the carpet
beside his pack; and he had a fluent tongue in praise of his wares, as
he hung his silks over Lettice's outstretched arm, or arranged the
scarfs across her shoulders.
There was a slow but mutually satisfactory exchange of goods and money;
and then the pedler began to repack his treasures, and Lettice to carry
away the pretty trifles and the piece of satin her mistress had bought.
Then, also, he found time to talk, to take out the last newspapers, and
to describe the popular dissatisfaction at the stupid tyranny of the
Government toward the Colonies. For either from information, or by some
process rapid as instinct, he understood to which side Katherine's
sympathies went.