It was already growing dusk; the sky was darker, and a loose, wet sleet
was beginning to fall. I took my rug down covertly from the box, and
hid it under the front seat inside the carriage; when that was done, I
watered the horses and harnessed up. A little after, Fruen came down the
hill. I went up for the basket, and met her on the way.
“Where are you going?”
“To fetch the basket.”
“You needn't trouble, thanks; there's nothing to take back.”
We went down to the carriage; she got in, and I made to help her to
rights with the rug she had. Then I pulled out my own from under the
front seat, taking care to keep the border out of sight lest she should
recognize it.
“Oh, what a blessing!” cried Fruen. “Why, where was it?”
“Under the seat here.”
“Well.... Of course, I might have borrowed some more rugs from the
vicarage, but the poor souls would never have got them back again....
Thanks; I can manage ... no, thank you; I can manage by myself. You can
drive on now.”