—"You'd let me," he finished for her. "Well, I'm not particularly clever, but I've got sense enough to count sheep and drive cows; and I can break in colts, train dogs, and, if I'm obliged, I daresay I could drive a plough."
Her eyes wandered thoughtfully, abstractedly down the dale; but she was listening and thinking.
"Of course I should have a lot to learn, but I'm rather quick at picking up things, and—"
"Are you joking, Mr. Orme?" she broke in.
"Joking? I was never more serious in my life," he said, eagerly, and yet with an attempt to conceal his earnestness. "I am asking it as a favour, I am indeed! I shall be here for weeks, months, perhaps, and I should be bored to death—"
"With your father's house full of visitors?" she put in, softly, and with a smile breaking through her gravity.
"Oh, they'll amuse themselves," he said. "At any rate, I sha'n't be with them all day; and I'd ever so much rather help you than dance attendance on them."
She pushed the short silky curls from her temples, and shook her head.
"Of course it's ridiculous," she said, with a girlish laugh; "and it's impossible, too."
"Oh, is it?" he retorted. "I've never yet found anything I wanted to do impossible."