"Oh, Miss Cummings, have you heard the news?" May questioned, as the governess entered the schoolroom where she and Donald were waiting for her. "Captain Basset is sending his little girl to England—"
"So Miss Basset has informed me," Miss Cummings interrupted; "I met her in the hall. But no talking now, children! It's time for work to begin."
As a rule work ceased at half-past twelve o'clock. This morning May and Donald were inattentive, not wilfully, but because they found it impossible to keep their thoughts from wandering to the expected visitor, and the result was that it was nearly one o'clock before they had finished writing the impositions their governess gave them. By that time they were both feeling very ill-used.
The family at the Glen, who were simple living people, dined at half-past one. After dinner, if the weather was fine, Miss Cummings generally took May for a walk. She did so to-day.
"Where are we going?" May inquired, as, on closing the big iron gate behind them, the governess paused, looking undecided. "May I choose the way?"
"Yes, if you like," Miss Cummings replied.
So May chose the road towards Midbury, which led past the blacksmith's house and shop. Old Dicker, a vigorous man of sixty, with grizzled hair, was at work in the shop, and his wife, a little, plump, rosy-cheeked, brown-eyed woman, stood in the doorway knitting. May nodded smilingly to the blacksmith, and spoke to Mrs. Dicker.
"I saw your son march past the Glen this morning," she informed her.
"Ah, yes!" said the woman. "He was on his way to Kilber Down with the other recruits. They're going to be taught trench-digging there."
"How interesting!" exclaimed Miss Cummings.