"All right, I'll turn up. Good arternoon!" She turned to the door and almost ran into the arms of a tall young man.
Shyness was not one of Peggy's characteristics.
"I s'pose as how you're Bill," she said, with a queer look up at him. "I've bin doin' what you oughter! Yer poor old father wants some one to look arter him. Why don't yer keep the place clean? 'Tis as bad as London for dirt and mess. You jest giv' it a good lick up afore I comes this way agen!"
She marched off, Albert Edward at her heels, and Bill Somers stared after her in stupid amazement.
[CHAPTER VII]
A FELLOW-GIRL
MALLOW FARM was reached at length, and Peggy's delight was great when she found a gate that did not lead into the farmyard. The door was opened by a bright, rosy-cheeked girl about Peggy's age, who said that everybody had gone to market and she was alone in charge.
Peggy looked dismayed.
"Who are you?" she asked bluntly.
"I'm the servant."