Meg's table-linen, bed-linen, and so forth, were always home-made, of the best quality, and in the best order; and a weary day was that to the chambermaid in which her lynx eye discovered any neglect of the strict cleanliness which she constantly enforced.

Indeed, considering Meg's country and calling, we were never able to account for her extreme and scrupulous nicety, unless by supposing that it afforded her the most apt and frequent pretext for scolding her maids; an exercise in which she displayed so much eloquence and energy, that we must needs believe it to have been a favourite one.[I-4] We have only further to commemorate, the moderation of Meg's reckonings, which, when they closed the banquet, often relieved the apprehensions, instead of saddening the heart, of the rising guest.

A shilling for breakfast, three shillings for dinner, including a pint of old port, eighteenpence for a snug supper--such were the charges of the inn of St.
Ronan's, under this landlady of the olden world, even after the nineteenth century had commenced; and they were ever tendered with the pious recollection, that her good father never charged half so much, but these weary times rendered it impossible for her to make the lawing less.[I-5] Notwithstanding all these excellent and rare properties, the inn at Saint Ronan's shared the decay of the village to which it belonged.

This was owing to various circumstances.

The high-road had been turned aside from the place, the steepness of the street being murder (so the postilions declared) to their post-horses.