They walked very contentedly to be registered before Doctor Dobbs, who was also justice of the peace, and went in search of their slender bundles, and took leave of their few acquaintances without much regret: for the gentlemen had been bred in the workhouse, and had not, therefore, a large circle of friends.
It wanted only an hour of noon, and the noble Count had not descended.
The men were waiting for him, and spent much of the Queen's money (earned by the sale of their bodies overnight) while thus expecting him.
Perhaps Mrs.Catherine expected him too, for she had offered many times to run up--with my Lord's boots--with the hot water--to show Mr.Brock the way; who sometimes condescended to officiate as barber.

But on all these occasions Mrs.Score had prevented her; not scolding, but with much gentleness and smiling.

At last, more gentle and smiling than ever, she came downstairs and said, "Catherine darling, his honour the Count is mighty hungry this morning, and vows he could pick the wing of a fowl.

Run down, child, to Farmer Brigg's and get one: pluck it before you bring it, you know, and we will make his Lordship a pretty breakfast." Catherine took up her basket, and away she went by the back-yard, through the stables.

There she heard the little horse-boy whistling and hissing after the manner of horseboys; and there she learned that Mrs.
Score had been inventing an ingenious story to have her out of the way.
The ostler said he was just going to lead the two horses round to the door.