The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. The dress of this person was excessively showy, and consisted of a scarlet riding-habit, lined and faced with blue, and bedizened with broad gold lace, a green silk-knit waistcoat, embroidered with silver, and decorated with a deep fringe, together with a hat tricked out in the same gaudy style. Perhaps Sir John is going to take the other one under his wing. 276 He opened the box. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad.
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