‘Honour bright, Rosa?’
‘Well, I can’t say more than I have. However, you will see. I shall not dance with him. If he asks me, I shall say I am engaged to you.’
‘You can say what you like, so long as you snub the brute. I wonder at his impudence coming up to our “Home” at all. But these snobs are never wanting in “cheek.” However, if Bob and I don’t give him a pretty broad hint to-night that his room is preferable to his company, I’m a duffer! Are you going in, Rosa?’
For the young people had continued to walk towards their own home, and had now arrived at the farm gates.
‘Yes. I’ve been in the saddle since ten o’clock this morning, and have had enough of it.’
‘Let me take Polly round to the stables before the governor sees the state you’ve brought her home in, then,’ said George, as his sister dismounted and threw him the reins. He could be good-natured enough when he had his own way, and he thought he had got it now with Rosa. But she went up to her chamber bent but on one idea—how best to let Mr Darley know of what had passed between her brother and herself, that he might not be surprised at the caution of her behaviour when they met in the big barn.
Meanwhile Lizzie Locke having left her basket of cockles at Mavis Farm, had reached her cottage home. Her thoughts had been very pleasant as she journeyed there and pondered on the coming pleasure of the evening. It was not often the poor child took any part in the few enjoyments to be met in Corston. People were apt to leave her out of their invitations, thinking that as she was blind she could not possibly derive any amusement from hearing, and she was of too shrinking and modest a nature to obtrude herself where she was not specially required. She had never been to one of the harvest-home suppers given by Farmer Murray (in whose employ her cousin Laurence worked), though she had heard much of their delights. But now that Miss Rosa had particularly desired her to come, she thought Larry would be pleased to take her. And she had a print dress nice and clean for the occasion, and her aunt would plait her hair neatly for her, and she should hear the sound of Larry’s voice as he talked to his companions, and of his feet whilst he was dancing, and, perhaps, after supper one of his famous old English songs—songs which they had heard so seldom of late, and the music of which her aunt and she had missed so much.
It was past twelve o’clock as she entered the cottage, but she was so full of her grand news that she scarcely remembered that she must have kept both her relations waiting for their dinner of bacon and beans.