Part 19 (1/2)
”May I come again to see them, please?” asked Betty. ”They've got the spirit of the Scotch dogs. They are the first true friends I have met since I left Scotland.”
”And may I make bold to ask your name, miss?” inquired the farmer's wife.
”Yes, you may,” said Betty. ”It isn't much of a name. It's just Betty Vivian, and I live at Haddo Court.”
”My word! Be you one of them young ladies?”
”I don't know quite what you mean; but I am Betty Vivian, and I live at Haddo Court.”
”But how ever did you get on the high road, miss?” asked the farmer.
Betty laughed. ”I went to the edge of what they call the common,” she said. ”I found a fence, and I vaulted over--that is all. I don't like your country much, farmer; there's no s.p.a.ce about it. But the dogs, they are darlings!”
”You're the pluckiest young gel I ever come across,” said the man. ”How you managed to tame 'em is more than I can say. Why, they are real brutes when any one comes nigh the farm; and over and over I has said to the wife, 'You ought to lock them brutes up, wife.' But she's rare and kindhearted, and is very fond of them, whelps that they be.”
”I wonder,” said the woman, ”if missie would come into the house and have a bite of summat to eat? We makes b.u.t.ter for the Court, miss; and we sends up all our eggs, and many a pair of fat chickens and turkeys and other fowl. We're just setting down to dinner, and can give you some potatoes and pork.”
Betty laughed gleefully. ”I'd love potatoes and pork more than anything,” she said. ”May Dan and Beersheba dine with us?”
”Well, miss, I don't expect you'll find it easy to get 'em parted from you.”
So Betty entered the farmyard, and walked through, in her direct fas.h.i.+on, without picking her steps; for she loved, as she expressed it, a sense of confusion and the sight of different animals. She had a knack of making herself absolutely at home, and did so on the present occasion. Soon she was seated in the big bright kitchen of the farmhouse, and was served with an excellent meal of the best fresh pork and the most mealy potatoes she had seen since she left Scotland. Mrs.
Miles gave her a great big gla.s.s of rich milk, but she preferred water.
Dan sat at one side of her, Beersheba at the other. They did not ask for food; but they asked imploringly for the pat of a firm, brown little hand, and for the look of love in Betty's eyes.
”I have enjoyed myself,” said the girl, jumping up. ”I do think you are the nicest people anywhere; and as to your dogs, they are simply glorious. Might not I come here again some day, and--and bring my sisters with me? They are twins, you know. Do you mind twins?”
”Bless your sweet voice!” said Mrs. Miles; ”is it a-minding twins we be when we has two sets ourselves?”
”My sisters are very nice, considering that they are twins,” said Betty, who was always careful not to overpraise her own people; ”and they are just as fond of dogs as I am. Oh, by the way, we have a lovely spider--a huge, glorious creature. His name is d.i.c.kie, and he lives in an attic at the Court. He's as big as this.” Betty made an apt ill.u.s.tration with her fingers.
”Lor', miss, he must be an awful beast! We're dead nuts agen spiders at the Stoke Farm.”
Betty looked sad. ”It is strange,” she said, ”how no one loves d.i.c.kie except our three selves. We won't bring him, then; but may _we_ come?”
”It all depends, miss, on whether Mrs. Haddo gives you leave. 'Tain't the custom, sure and certain, for young ladies from the Court to come a-visiting at Stoke Farm; but if so be she says yes, you'll be heartily welcome, and more than welcome. I can't say more, can I, miss?”
”Well, I have had a happy time,” said Betty; ”and now I must be going back.”
”But,” said the farmer, ”missie, you surely ain't going to get over that big fence the same way as you come here?”
”And what else should I do?” said Betty.
”'Taint to be done, miss. There's a drop at our side which makes the fence ever so much higher, and how you didn't hurt yourself is little less than a miracle to me. I'll have the horse put to the cart and drive you round to the front entrance in a jiffy. Dan and Beersheba can follow, the run'll do them no end of good.”
”Yes, missie, you really must let my husband do what he wishes,” said Mrs. Miles.
”Thank you,” said Betty in a quiet voice. Then she added, looking up into Mrs. Miles's face, ”I love Mrs. Haddo very much, and there is one girl at the school whom I love. I think I shall love you too, for I think you have understanding. And when I come to see you next--for of course Mrs. Haddo will give me leave--I will tell you about Scotland, and the heather, and the fairies that live in the heather-bells; and I will tell you about our little gray stone house, and about Donald Macfarlane and Jean Macfarlane. Oh, you will love to hear! You are something like them, except that unfortunately you are English.”