"Mrs. Tiddy thought this morning that they would die," Peggy said as she covered the invalids with her warm hands. "But they are getting on nicely now, and to-morrow, they'll be strong enough to run with their brothers and sisters."
Miss Leighton glanced around the kitchen with admiring, appreciative eyes, noticing the shining tins on the mantel-piece, the big copper warming-pan and the tall, brass-faced clock against the wall, and the linen bags hanging from the beams which spanned the ceiling, containing home-cured hams and sides of bacon. And then, after a visit to the dairy, she returned with Peggy to the parlour, where the tea-things had disappeared from the table, and the easiest chair in the room was drawn near the window for the guest.
"What a peaceful scene it is!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, as her eyes rested on the village below and the distant sea. "I suppose, Mrs. Tiddy, you have become greatly attached to this charming spot?"
"Yes," Mrs. Tiddy answered. "I love Lower Brimley as I imagine only a woman who has been homeless and dependent can love her home. There was nowhere in the world where I could feel I had a right to be, till I married, for I was left an orphan at an early age and brought up by relations who regarded me in the light of an incubus. The bread of charity is very bitter, Miss Leighton—how bitter, it is impossible for those who have never tasted it to guess. I finished my education in a school as a pupil teacher, so I can truthfully say, that after I was seventeen, I maintained myself. You know I was a governess for several years, but I prefer being a farmer's wife," she concluded with a happy laugh.
"Your lines have fallen in pleasant places," Miss Leighton remarked, with a smile which was very gracious.
And Mrs. Tiddy agreed.
Then Peggy was asked to give them some music, and she went to the piano willingly. Miss Leighton was astonished to hear the child could play so well, and expressed herself delighted, remarking that she had evidently been most carefully taught.
"Soon I am going to learn the organ," Peggy informed the old lady, twisting round on the piano-stool, "and then, perhaps, when I am quite grown up I shall be able to earn my own living. How splendid that will be! I think I would rather be a musician than anything else, because it makes people happy to hear music. Oh! here's Mr. Tiddy!" she cried, catching the sound of footsteps in the hall; and a minute later the farmer entered the room.
"You've been having some music?" he said, glancing at Peggy on the piano-stool. "Well, now, won't you sing something, my dear? She has a voice as sweet as a lark's," he continued, turning to the visitor. "I am sure you would like to hear her sing, wouldn't you?"
"Indeed I should," Miss Leighton replied.