“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!
As she turned this over in her mind Lilac lingered over her preparations, and when Peter came near her tossing the hay to right and left with his strong arms, she looked up at him and said:
“I’m sorry about None-so-pretty.”
Peter stopped a moment, took off his straw hat and rubbed his hot red face with his handkerchief.
“Thank yer,” he answered; “so am I.”