Three hundred pounds looked an enormous sum in the eyes of the Somersetshire maiden, but she was determined to make an appeal to the hard-hearted young Squire.
Binegar was some miles from the hamlet of Upton, where Bishop's Farm stood; but Bryda was well used to long rambles over hill and dale, and she ran up to her room full of her scheme.
'I will tell no one—no, not even Bet,' she thought. 'They shall see for once I can be of use. And then I will go to Bristol and see Mr Lambert, and tell him I will come and be the useful girl about the place his mother wants.'
Bryda took some pains with her appearance, as she stood before a little glass, which gave but a distorted reflection of the fair face which gazed into it.
Bryda exchanged her blue homespun skirt for a red camlet, a material then much used for women's dress. It was made with short elbow sleeves, and the bodice cut low. Over this Bryda pinned a white kerchief, confining the ends at the waist with a silver buckle which had belonged to her mother. Then she tied back her bright hair, which was the colour of a cornfield rippling in the sunshine, with a blue ribbon, and perched on the top of her pretty head a bonnet of Dunstable straw which would have disguised most faces so ugly was its shape. But Bryda's face could not lend itself to any disguise. Her luminous eyes seemed to shine the brighter under the shadow of the peak. Her clear rose-and-white complexion was set off by the clumsy knot of faded ribbon strings which passed under the high crown of the bonnet was tied under Bryda's dimpled chin, and defined its beautiful outline.
Thus equipped, Bryda stepped quietly downstairs, and went out at the back door of the farm.
In the yard, on a barrel turned up for a seat, sat Silas the shepherd.
He was cutting huge slices of coarse bread with a clasp knife, and crowding them into his mouth, with morsels of Cheddar cheese.
'I want to take one of the dogs for a walk, Silas. Which can you spare?'
'Neither,' was the short response.