What was the use of being a rich widow, if she was to be hedged-in by the restrictions which encompass the steps of an unwedded damsel just beginning life?
Emboldened by the absence of her dowager kinswoman, Mrs.Branston felt herself independent, free to do a foolish thing, and ready to abide the hazard of her folly.
So, upon the fourth day of her freedom, despairing of any visit from John Saltram, Adela Branston ordered the solemn-looking butler to send for a cab, much to the surprise of that portly individual.
"Josephs has just been round asking about the carriage, mum," he said, in a kind of suggestive way; "whether you'd please to want the b'rouche or the broom, and whether you'd drive before or after luncheon." "I shall not want the carriage this morning; send for a cab, if you please, Parker.

I am going into the City, and don't care about taking the horses there." The solemn Parker bowed and retired, not a little mystified by this order.

His mistress was a kind little woman enough, but such extreme consideration for equine comfort is hardly a feminine attribute, and Mr.
Parker was puzzled.

He told Josephs the coachman as much when he had dispatched an underling to fetch the cleanest four-wheeler procurable at an adjacent stand.
"She's a-going to her banker's I suppose," he said meditatively; "going to make some new investments perhaps.

Women are always a-fidgeting and chopping and changing with their money." Mrs.Branston kept the cab waiting half an hour, according to the fairest reckoning.