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'I knawn't,' was the answer. 'Some does one thing, and some
another. Poor folk mun get on as they can.'
She seemed to be tired of my questions: and, indeed, what claim had
I to importune her? A neighbour or two came in; my chair was evidently
wanted. I took leave.
I passed up the street, looking as I went at all the houses to
the right hand and to the left; but I could discover no pretext, nor
see an inducement to enter any. I rambled round the hamlet, going
sometimes to a little distance and returning again, for an hour or
more. Much exhausted, and suffering greatly now for want of food, I
turned aside into a lane and sat down under the hedge. Ere many
minutes had elapsed, I was again on my feet, however, and again
searching something- a resource, or at least an informant. A pretty
little house stood at the top of the lane, with a garden before it,
exquisitely neat and brilliantly blooming. I stopped at it. What
business had I to approach the white door or touch the glittering
knocker? In what way could it possibly be the interest of the
inhabitants of that dwelling to serve me? Yet I drew near and knocked.
A mild-looking, cleanly-attired young woman opened the door. In such a