Part 25 (1/2)
”Well, he's in the right there,” said Mr Solace good-humouredly.
”That's little Miss Chester, isn't it?” she went on, her sharp eye catching sight of the children, ”and her cousin, Miss Trevor? How delicate she looks, poor child!” She nodded and smiled graciously.
”No, that's not Miss Trevor,” replied Mr Solace; ”that's my wheelwright's little girl. She's been ill, and she's stopping here for change of air. My wife's going to nurse her up a bit.”
”So _odd_!” remarked Mrs Broadbent, as she and her daughters moved on into the garden. ”I really do think Mrs Solace might draw the line _somewhere_.”
”There's Mr Hurst,” continued Maisie; ”he's our vicar, you know; and the little lady with white hair and a big hat is his sister, who lives with him. And he's talking to your doctor, Dr Price. I wish he was our doctor, but we're never ill, so it doesn't matter much. I like Dr Price, ever since he told me about the kitten, only I wish he wouldn't keep such cruel dogs. Where _is_ the kitten? Didn't you bring her?”
There was a little lump on Becky's knees covered up by her pinafore.
She lifted a corner of it, and showed the grey kitten snugly asleep, curled up like a ball.
”I was afraid so many strange folk would scare her,” she said.
The garden was soon full of the sound of voices and laughter, and alive with many-coloured figures. Preparations for tea began to appear in the veranda, and presently Dennis and Philippa came slowly back with heated faces, each bearing a cabbage-leaf full of strawberries.
”Philippa will say that they have bigger ones at Haughton,” said Dennis; ”so I was determined to find the very biggest I could. Now just look here, Philippa!” He spread out his cabbage-leaf exultingly. ”The Manor Farm's _famous_ for its strawberries; there's nothing like them for miles round. Yours at Haughton are all very well, but the very largest would be squinny beside these.”
Philippa had plenty to say on the subject as usual, and she carried on a lively dispute with Dennis as to the merits of the strawberries, until the children's tea was brought out, and placed on a little table all to themselves.
During their meal, they could watch the other guests, who came in and out from the garden to rest from the glare of the sun, or to taste the strawberries and cream and other good things provided for them. They all talked and laughed a great deal, and their talk was almost entirely about strawberries and cream. One preferred strawberries alone; another considered cream such a great improvement; a third found the mixture unwholesome, but the fruit alone, beneficial. Lilian Broadbent sauntered in, very much overcome with the heat, and threw herself languidly into the wicker-chair which an attentive young farmer hastened to bring.
”That is the one they want her to marry,” whispered Dennis, who knew every one's affairs.
Would she have some strawberries? With or without cream? Did she take sugar? Would she have them prepared for her? After a careless a.s.sent had been given to all these questions, Miss Broadbent thought that on the whole strawberries tasted better picked for one's self, only the very thought of stooping in the sun made her head ache. While her admirer suggested ways of overcoming this difficulty, Aunt Katharine and Mr Solace came in, and talked gravely of crops, and then the portly figures of Mrs Solace and Dr Price approached, and stopped to look at the little party of children.
”Your patient does you credit, Mrs Solace,” said the doctor. ”She looks better already. She'll soon be out of my hands, if she goes on at this rate.”
Mrs Solace smiled at Becky with the same sort of comfortable pride as when she looked at a remarkably fine brood of turkeys.
”She's picking up a bit,” she said; ”but it's early days yet. We'll see how she looks after she's been here a month. I shouldn't wonder if she gets as hearty as Miss Maisie yonder.--Have you told Miss Maisie, Becky, what we're going to make of you, when you get quite strong and well?”