'
As Miss Fouracres spoke a sound from the house drew her attention; some one
had entered the inn.
'A customer?' said Mr. Ruddiman. 'Let me go and serve him--do let me!'
'But you wouldn't know how, sir.'
'If it's beer, and that's most likely, I know well enough. I've watched you
so often. I'll go and see.'
With the face of a schoolboy he ran into the house, and was absent about
ten minutes. Then he reappeared, chinking coppers in his hand and laughing
gleefully.
'A cyclist! Pint of half-and-half! I served him as if I'd done nothing else
all my life.'
Miss Fouracres looked at him with wonder and admiration. She did not laugh;
demonstrative mirth was not one of her characteristics; but for a long time
there dwelt upon her good, plain countenance a half-smile of placid
contentment. When they went in together, Mr. Ruddiman begged her to teach
him all the mysteries of the bar, and his request was willingly granted. In
this way they amused themselves until the return of the landlord, who, as
soon as he had stabled his pony, called Mr. Ruddiman aside, and said in a
hoarse whisper--
'The Prince comes to-morrow!'
'Ha! does he?' was the answer, in a tone of feigned interest.
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