'Tired! I should think so! Why, she's walked more than thirty miles, and ridden thirty in the last two days,' said the farmer gruffly.
The stranger glanced again compassionately at Gladys, but merely said,—
'She looks so pale that I fancied she was suddenly faint. How long has Miss Hall been at Glanyravon?'
'Somewhere about two or three years now, I should say; but when she was teaching Miss Gwynne she was there a great many years.'
'Is she in good health? How does she look? Is she happy?'
'If she was ill, sir, I don't think any one 'ould know it, she's so quiet and patient; but I think she's pretty well, and she can't help being happy, for she's just the same as if she was at home with her father and sister. Now she is a nice lady! If all 'oomen were like her there 'ouldn't be half the plague with 'em there is. She's quite content without having a lot of lovers after her, and running away, and making everybody in a fever. Deet to goodness, my opinion is that the world 'ould go on a sight better without 'em. What do you think, sir? You must have plenty of experience as a clergyman, for all the ladies are pretty sharp after the cloth.'
The stranger laughed, and said he thought the world would be very disagreeable without the fair sex, and that he had no doubt Mr Prothero would find it so if they became suddenly extinct.
The farmer was so pleased with his new acquaintance that when they reached the Park gate, he said very heartily,—
'Now, mind you, sir, there's a warm welcome, and a well-aired bed, and fine, white, home-spun linen at the farm. The squire may give you a better dinner, may be, but not a hotter, I'll answer for it; Gladys'll see to that; she's capital for that. And mother 'ould be so glad to hear what the rector said about our Rowly.'
'You may depend upon my coming,' said the stranger. 'What time does Mr Gwynne dine? I suppose I shall escape his dinner hour? It is now about five o'clock.'