I laughed good-humouredly enough, for I was a little pleased with the way I'd got on with my work.
"Elizabeth, you're getting one-idea'ed," I told her as I strolled along, picking out of the hedge a country nosegay of stitchwort and dog-violets and primroses with one gay pink flower of campion. "I must say I shall be glad when Hackenschmidt the Second turns up——"
"Who?"
"The hefty Brute who's going to tame you, you Man-hater, when the time comes," I explained, putting a leaf of Herb-Robert, pungent-scented and lacy, as frill to my bouquet. "I shall be able to rag you about him then, instead of having to put up with your nonsense. You wait."
"Yes, I'm waiting," nodded Elizabeth grimly.
I said "All things come to her who waits. I expect he'll take at least seventeens in boots! And throw them at you!"
CHAPTER XI
THE LAND-GIRLS' LETTER-BAG
"A word in due season, how good it is!"—SCRIPTURE.
At the Camp we found the Timber-gang buzzing about what constituted for all of us the great event of the day—the day's mail.