If we neglect it we are little better
than the brutes, and may grossly deceive ourselves.'
At this moment the sound of wheels was heard, and Madge jumped up,
nearly over-setting the board, and rushed into the front room. It
was the four-horse coach from London, which, once a day, passed
through Fenmarket on its road to Lincoln. It was not the direct
route from London to Lincoln, but the Defiance went this way to
accommodate Fenmarket and other small towns. It slackened speed in
order to change horses at the 'Crown and Sceptre,' and as Madge stood
at the window, a gentleman on the box-seat looked at her intently as
he passed. In another minute he had descended, and was welcomed by
the landlord, who stood on the pavement. Clara meanwhile had taken
up a book, but before she had read a page, her sister skipped into
the parlour again, humming a tune.
'Let me see--check, you said, but it is not mate.'
She put her elbows on the table, rested her head between her hands,
and appeared to contemplate the game profoundly.
'Now, then, what do you say to that?'
It was really a very lucky move, and Clara, whose thoughts perhaps
were elsewhere, was presently most unaccountably defeated. Madge was
triumphant.
'Where are all your deep-laid schemes? Baffled by a poor creature
who can hardly put two and two together.'
'Perhaps your schemes were better than mine.
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