"A' right," mumbled the lads in chorus.
"Come in, my gentlemen, come in. Never mind for a speck of mud; the maids'll dust 'ee."
This sally provoked a ripple of laughter from the maids, and a chuckle from the young gentlemen.
The farmer surveyed them solemnly as they stepped into the barn.
"Why, you be all in top-boots?" he shouted. "Ho! ho! my maids, ye'll get thy twinkling toes rarely trod on, or shall I lend 'em my slippers to each in turn?"
This was considered splendid fooling, and laughter again resounded.
"Nay, farmer, you're in the wrong," said Charles producing a pair of pumps from the pockets of his riding coat.
"Why! dang me, if they han't brought a King's wardrobe wi'en. Eh! maids, you must mind your modesties to-night."
The maids, huddled together like a bunch of red apples, were set shaking with laughter at this warning—as if by a boisterous wind.
"Who will help us with our boots?" asked Clare as he subsided upon a truss of straw and flung his legs wide apart.