“Oh! but save us! that’s only a woman’s view.”
“It flies with all the force of beauty behind it, my dear.”
The girl shrunk back a little.
“Then I was to ask you,” she said, in a more strained voice, “if you would favor us with your custom in the matter of poultry and butter and garden stuff?”
The gentleman laughed.
“Why, I’ve turned away one with the same offer already,” cried he. Then, seeing her fall back timid, as if at a rebuff: “Could you undertake to supply ’em very fresh?” he said, with mock gravity.
“Oh! rest your honour!” she said eagerly. “We could drive over every day, if needs were.”
“Say, twice a week, Betty. And, if you lack garden stuff, why come none the less, and I’ll take a fruitful pleasure of your visits.”
He caught his stirrup and mounted, and was gone with a smiling nod to the girl. At the entrance to the drive, the old man saluted him respectfully. He pulled up, and was about to exchange a word with the gaffer, when he remembered his deafness, and made as if to proceed on his way. But Grandfather Pollack leaned out of his cart and beckoned him.
“That’s a full-blooded girl,” he said, in a hoarse whisper. “A sweet, neat filly, I calls her.”