"I'm nothing but a
forlorn lone body; or, what's the same thing, there's nobody but the old
gentleman at home; but a half mile farther up the road is a house where
you can get entertainment, and that for nothing. I am sure 'twill be
much convenienter to them, and more agreeable to me--because, as I said
before, Harvey is away; I wish he'd take advice, and leave off
wandering; he's well to do in the world by this time; and he ought to
leave off his uncertain courses, and settle himself, handsomely, in
life, like other men of his years and property. But Harvey Birch will
have his own way, and die vagabond after all!"
The horseman did not wait to hear more than the advice to pursue his
course up the road; but he had slowly turned his horse towards the bars,
and was gathering the folds of an ample cloak around his manly form,
preparatory to facing the storm again, when something in the speech of
the female suddenly arrested the movement.
"Is this, then, the dwelling of Harvey Birch?" he inquired, in an
involuntary manner, apparently checking himself, as he was about to
utter more.
"Why, one can hardly say it is his dwelling," replied the other, drawing
a hurried breath, like one eager to answer; "he is never in it, or so
seldom, that I hardly remember his face, when he does think it worth his
while to show it to his poor old father and me.
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