“Put your arm round my neck if you like, but all the village knows that you are my brother, my only near relation. Clarice has a cousin at ‘The Beetle,’ which is our newsagency.”
“Clarice,” repeated Ronnie, “is that the shuffling parlour-maid with the cock eye?”
“She is a capital servant,” I replied, “and sees as much as three. Here come the Soadys.”
“Who are they?—tell me quickly,” urged Ronnie.
“Sam Soady and his daughter. She is the only girl I know in these parts, and has been my great stand-by. He is a rich farmer, sells cattle and horses, and lives in an old manor house the other side of Beke.”
Almost before I concluded, the Soadys were upon us, a fine, solid, up-sitting pair, with the same open countenances, ruddy cheeks and blue eyes. As they halted, Tossie cried out:
“Hallo, Eva, fancy seeing you roosting beside the road!”
“Yes, my brother says I have walked him off his legs. Let me introduce him to you. Mr. Lingard, Miss Soady, and Mr. Soady.”
The latter touched his cap and said in his loud, hoarse voice:
“Not much to see in these parts, sir!”