“Oh, dad, how you startled me!” cried Polly, jumping up.
“Startled you, my lass? I heerd loud talking and I’d been told young Magglin had come down this way, and I thought it was him.”
“I saw him just before I came in, over by the pond there by the copse,” I said.
“He wasn’t likely to be in here, father,” said Polly primly. “I should like to catch him trying to come in.”
“So should I,” said the keeper grimly. “I’d try oak that time ’stead o’ hazel.”
“Hush, dad! do adone,” whispered Polly. Then aloud—
“Master Burr’s been poorly all day, and as they were all feasting and junketing at the school, he come down here to ask me to make him some tea, and he’s very welcome, aren’t he, father?”
“I should just think he is, my lass. But fill up his cup again, and he’s got no fresh butter.”
“I’ve done,” I said; “and oh, I do feel so much better now! Do you know what a bad sick headache is?”
“No, my lad, no. I aren’t had one since—”