I was not allowed to sit outside on this journey.

It was only a short one, however; and, truth to say, I did not feel strong enough for any feats of energy, and went meekly enough into that stuffy hole, the inside! Before following me, Nurse Bundle gave some directions to the driver, of a kind that could only be effectual in reference to a small place where everybody was known.
"Coachman! Oakford! And drop us at Mr.Buckle's, please, the saddler." "High Street, isn't it ?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs.
Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch.
"To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown.'" With which Mrs.Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted workbag, and clambered into the coach.
There were two other "insides." One of these never spoke at all during the journey.

The other only spoke once, and he seems to have been impelled thereto by a three hours' contemplation of the contrast between my slim, wasted little figure, and Nurse Bundle's portly person, as we sat opposite to him.

He was a Scotchman, and I fancy "in business." "You're weel matched to sit on the one side," was his remark.
Once, when I was feeling faint, he opened the window without my having spoken, and only acknowledged my thanks by a silent nod.

When the coach stopped in the High Street of Oakford, and Nurse Bundle had descended, he so far relaxed, as he handed out me and the worsted workbag, as to indulge his national thirst for general information by the inquiring remark: "You'll be staying at the 'Crown' the night, mem ?" "No, sir.