As she spoke these last words a raw-boned lad of about eighteen thrust his shock head in at the doorway.
“Oh, here be Nat,” cried, the old lady; “so that be all right. Now, lad, you’re going to ha’ coompany to the station.”
“Coompany!” repeated the lad. “Who be it, missus?”
“This lady. I know you’re fond of the ladies.”
The lad blushed up to the roots of his hair, and went his way without further ado.
“Don’t care about taking me, I fancy,” said Laura.
“Not care! he’s but too delighted. Don’t ee mind him lass, that’s his way—he’s rather sheepish and queer wi’ strangers. Oh he’ll tek ee right enough. Here, Nat—Nat, I say, aint ee got yer ears this morning, or ha’ ee left em behind ee? Coom here, lad.”
The lad came into the room.
“Now, look here, you’ve got to tek this leddy to the station—so mind ee drive careful and don’t get the wheels into the ruts any more than you can help. Do ee understand?”
“Yes, missus,” said the yokel, scratching his head; “I’ll be very careful.”