It
was very droll. The driver peeped into the coach once, and said that he
had his arm round her waist. He took little freedoms with her, tapping
her with his cane,--love-pats; and she seemed to see nothing amiss. They
kept eating gingerbread all along the road, and dined heartily
notwithstanding.
Our driver was a slender, lathe-like, round-backed, rough-bearded,
thin-visaged, middle-aged Yankee, who became very communicative during
our drive. He was not bred a stage-driver, but had undertaken the
business temporarily, as a favor to his brother-in-law. He was a native
of these Berkshire mountains, but had formerly emigrated to Ohio, and had
returned for a time to try the benefit of her native air on his wife's
declining health,--she having complaints of a consumptive nature. He
pointed out the house where he was married to her, and told the name of
the country squire who tied the knot. His wife has little or no chance
of recovery, and he said he would never marry again,--this resolution
being expressed in answer to a remark of mine relative to a second
marriage.
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