Part 16 (1/2)

”There was two on 'em,” she cried, her good-natured face s.h.i.+ning with triumph and the heat of her exertions; ”and we've housed 'em both beautiful. Lor'! ain't it hot?”

She stood with her iron weapons hanging down on each side, quite ready for a chat to delay her return to the house. Molly was always cheerfully ready to undertake any work that was not strictly her own.

Lilac felt sorry, as they went on their several ways, to think of the scolding that was waiting for her; but it was wasted pity, for Molly's shoulders were broad, and a scolding more or less made no manner of difference to them.

There were all sorts and sizes of people at work in the hayfield as Lilac pa.s.sed through it. Machines had not yet come into use at Danecross, so that the services of men, women, and children were much in request at this busy time. The farmer, remembering the motto, was determined to make his hay while the sun shone, and had collected hands from all parts of the neighbourhood. Lilac knew most of them, and pa.s.sed along exchanging greetings, to where her uncle sat on his grey cob at the end of the field. He was talking to Peter, who stood by him with a wooden pitchfork in his hand.

Lilac thought that her uncle's face looked unusually good-tempered as she handed up his meal to him. He sat there eating and drinking, and continued his conversation with his son.

”Well, and what d'ye think of Buckle's offer for the colt?”

”Pity we can't sell him,” answered Peter.

”_Can't_ sell him!” repeated the farmer; ”I'm not so sure about that.

Maybe he'd go sound now. He doesn't show no signs of lameness.”

”Wouldn't last a month on the roads,” said Peter.

The farmer's face clouded a little. ”Well,” he said hesitatingly, ”that's Buckle's business. He can look him over, and if he don't see nothing wrong--”

”We hadn't ought to sell him,” said Peter in exactly the same voice.

”He's not fit for the roads. Take him off soft ground and he'd go queer in a week.”

”He might or he mightn't,” said the farmer impatiently; ”all I know is I want the cash. It'd just pay that bill of Jones's, as is always bothering for his money. I declare I hate going into Lenham for fear of meeting that chap.”

Peter had begun to toss the hay near him with his pitchfork. He did not look at his father or change his expression, but he said again:

”Knowing what we do, we hadn't ought to sell him.”

The farmer struck his stirrup-iron so hard with his stick that even the steady grey pony was startled.

”I wish,” he said with an oath, ”that you'd never found it out then.

I'd like to be square and straight about the horse as well as anyone.

I've always liked best to be straight, but I'm too hard up to be so particular as that comes to. It's easy enough,” he added moodily, ”for a man to be honest with his pockets full of money.”

”I could get the same price for None-so-pretty,” said Peter after a long pause. ”Mrs Grey wants her--over at Cuddingham. Took a fancy to her a month ago.”

”I'll not have her sold,” said the farmer quickly. ”What's the good of selling her? She's useful to us, and the colt isn't.”

”She ain't not exactly so _useful_ to us as the other cows,” said Peter.

”She's more of a fancy.”

”Well, she's yours,” answered the farmer sullenly. ”You can do as you like with her of course; but I'm not going to be off my bargain with Buckle whatever you do.”

He shook his reins and jogged slowly away to another part of the field, while Peter fell steadily to work again with his pitchfork. Lilac was packing the things that had been used into her basket, and glanced at him now and then with her thoughts full of what she had just heard. Her opinion of Peter had changed very much lately. She had found, since her first conversation with him, that in many things he was not stupid but wise. He knew for instance a great deal about all the animals on the farm, their ways and habits, and how to treat them when they were ill.

There were some matters to be sure in which he was laughably simple, and might be deceived by a child, but there were others on which everyone valued his opinion. His father certainly deferred to him in anything connected with the live stock, and when Peter had discovered a grave defect in the colt he did not dream of disputing it. So Lilac's feeling of pity began to change into something like respect, and she was sure too that Peter was anxious to show her kindness, though the expression of it was difficult to him. Since the day when he had gone away from her so suddenly, frightened by her tears, they had had several talks together, although the speech was mostly on Lilac's side. She shrank from him no longer, and sometimes when the real Peter came up from the depths where he lay hidden, and showed a glimpse of himself through the dull mask, she thought him scarcely ugly.

Would he sell None-so-pretty? She knew what it would cost him, for since Ben's history she had observed the close affection between them.

There were not so many people fond of Peter that he could afford to lose even the love of a cow--and yet he would rather do it than let the colt be sold!