“It’s early ye are in gettin’ up,” said Terence, the gardener. “Ye may belave me or not, but whin ye turned into the path I thought the sun was up for sure.”
Vivienne could not help smiling. “Ah, Terence, you are a great flatterer, like all of your countrymen. Do you say such pretty things to Snodine, your wife?”
“Well, I did before we wuz married and some time afther, but to spake the truth, I sometimes think that Snodine’s good-nature sun has set and I’m afeared it’ll never come up again.”
“Oh,” said Vivienne, “Snodine is not such a bad wife. She has a sharp tongue, to be sure.”
“Ah, ah, that she has; and if she wud only use it in the garden instid of on me, your brother would not have to buy so many spades.”
Vivienne was not disposed to continue the conversation, and after walking to the end of a long path, made her way back without again coming in contact with Terence. As she approached the house she found that her old nurse, Clarine, was up. She must have seen Vivienne, for she threw open the window of her room, on the ground floor, and gave the young girl a cheery good-morning.
“May I come in?” asked Vivienne.
Clarine ran to open the door, and as Vivienne entered she took the young girl in her arms and kissed her. “Can you come in? You know you can. Whenever you wish to see Clarine, you may always come without the asking. I served your father and your grandfather, and I will serve you as long as I live,” and the old lady made a curtsy to intensify the effect of her words.
“I want to talk with you, Clarine,” said Vivienne. “I am in great trouble.”
“Trouble!” cried Clarine. “There is enough trouble falling upon the house of Batistelli without its being visited upon your innocent head. What is the matter, darling?” and she drew the young girl towards her. “But we cannot talk here. Come to my room, and we will sit down and you can tell me all about it.”