Sometimes my father would have me brought out, and take me before him on his horse for a few minutes.

But my nurse never allowed this if a ready excuse could prevent it.

Her care of me was maternal in its tenderness, but she did not keep me tidy enough for me to be presentable off-hand to company.
There was always "company" wherever my mother went--gentleman company especially.

The gentlemen, in different places, and at different times, were not the same, but they had a common likeness.

I used to count them when they rode home with my father and mother, or assembled for any of the many reasons for which "company" hung about our homes.