"Another mystery in her. If I ever have any luck with her, the first thing will be to make her a bit kinder to women, Madge."
"She's kind enough; but to say it without feeling, she's narrow and she hates the mother business. She never will be fond of childer, I'm afraid, Bartley."
"Then we shall be of one mind there anyway. I don't like 'em either--never did and never shall."
"Wait and see. You'll change from all that nonsense."
Suddenly Bartley started.
"Talk of--there goeth Rhoda by the footpath yonder."
"So she is! Fancy that. I'll call her. She's on her way to Ditsworthy till evening. But I thought she'd gone long ago."
Bartley whistled and a solitary fox-terrier, who was the woman's companion, rushed over to see what was doing. He recognised Margaret and stopped; then he turned, held up a paw and waited to see whether Rhoda was coming after him.
Madge called and Rhoda came to them. Mr. Crocker greeted her with friendship and Margaret asked where she had been.
"I fell in with your brother," she said. "Bart was up over rounding up some ponies. Him and your father have got ten ponies for Princetown fair and they hope great things from them. But they'll not do so well as David's--they ain't so forward as our three."