"Of course we will," Mr. Trent replied, smiling. "We have planned a sail—that is, if the wind is suitable."
"There's Jabez in the garden, let us ask him what he thinks of the weather before we start," said Polly as they all rose from the table.
Accordingly, whilst Mr. Trent lingered conversing with his wife, the children repaired to the front garden to interview Jabez Triggs. He was a tall, old man, whose duty it was to attend to the Mill House gardens. Until the last few years he had been a fisherman, and he was as interesting to talk to as sea-faring people usually are; he had on several occasions greatly entertained Polly and Roger with stories of the wonderful adventures he had experienced in his youthful days, and had been gratified by the attention with which they had listened to him. They thought him the nicest old man they had ever met, and Polly consulted him every morning as to what the weather was likely to be during the day. Sometimes he became quite confidential with her, and once he had told her that his wife, being deaf, had the advantage of him in many ways.
"You see, missie, a man can't argue with a woman who's as deaf as a post," he had said aggrievedly, "and, though, maybe, it's all for the best, it's hard on me, you'll agree. Sarah's a good wife and as trustworthy as—but, there, we're both that, I hope, and Miss Trent knows it, or she wouldn't have put us in charge of the Mill House."
"Did Cousin Becky—that's Miss Trent, you know—get you your situation here?" Polly had inquired curiously.
"Why, of course, missie," the old man had replied, evidently surprised at her question. "She heard tell of Sarah and me in the village—how we were getting up in years and had always been respectable people, and she offered us the post of caretakers, and here we've been for nigh four years now. I often think what a blow it must have been to poor Miss Trent to have lost her brother, so wrapped up in him as she was," the old man had concluded meditatively.
On this particular morning, Jabez Triggs, upon being consulted, foretold a fine day, and declared the fresh wind was blowing the right sort of breeze for a pleasant sail, with no chance of a squall. Then Polly informed him that Miss Trent was expected on the morrow, and his weather-beaten countenance broke into a beaming smile.
"Well, I am pleased to hear it," he said with a glad ring in his voice, "and Sarah will be, too, I'll answer for that. I must run over the grass with the machine this afternoon; but I don't think Miss Trent will find the gardens have been neglected, and she was never one to complain without cause."
The children spent a delightful morning with their father, sailing; and when they returned at dinner-time, they were in high spirits, and their faces, which had already become sun-burnt, glowed with excitement as they proudly presented their mother with several fine mackerel which they had caught by means of a hook and a line. Mrs. Trent had been assisting Louisa to prepare the bedrooms for Cousin Becky and Edgar, and had passed a busy morning; but she was looking very bright, and was not feeling in the least over-tired. The complete change of air and scene was doing her an immense deal of good, and though they had been barely a fortnight at the Mill House, she had lost much of the languor which had characterised her movements during the height of the summer at Beaworthy, and it was no exertion for her to be cheerful now.
"I believe Cousin Becky will find us all looking better," Mr. Trent said complacently. "I know I feel it myself."