“I am afraid I’m not a judge of them,” she demurred.
Barth’s voice dropped confidentially.
“Neither am I. Still, as long as I came to help her, I think it would be rather decent to see if I can do anything about it, now I am here.”
“Oh,” Nancy said blankly. “Was the Lady expecting you?”
Barth’s gratified smile completed her mystification.
“Oh, rather! I wouldn’t have felt at liberty without, you know. That’s what the Lady is for.”
A moment later, the Lady started in surprise. Stick and gloves in hand and a frown of deep consideration on his boyish brow, Barth suddenly knelt down at her side and shut his slim fingers upon the flank of the nearest piglet, which gave vocal expression to its displeasure.
“Oh. Good morning,” he added, not to the piglet, however, but to the Lady. “I think you will find this little chap quite satisfactory.”
For an instant, Nancy had difficulty in repressing her mirth. Then, from the Lady’s manifest astonishment at Barth’s appearing, from Barth’s own manner, and from her memory of Brock’s final words, she saw the hand of the young Canadian in the situation. This was the substitute whom Brock had promised. She determined to put her theory to the test.
“Mr. Brock was very good to act as our messenger,” she suggested craftily.