"Where's that husband of yours, Mrs. Bindle?" he enquired, as if he suspected Bindle of hiding from him.
"I'm sure I don't know, sir," she cried, rising, whilst Mr. Hearty, in following suit, stepped upon the tails of his coat and slopped the rest of the tea over his trousers.
"Ah," said the bishop. "I must find him. He's a fine fellow, crossing the field behind that bull to warn Mr. Timkins. If the beast had happened to get into the camp, it would have been the very—very disastrous," he corrected himself, and with a nod he passed on followed by the other campers.
"That's just like Bindle," she complained, "not saying a word, and making me ridiculous before the bishop. He's always treating me like that," and there was a whimper in her voice.
"It's—it's very unfortunate," said Mr. Hearty nervously.
"Thank you, Mr. Hearty," she said. "It's little enough sympathy I get."
II
It was not until nearly four o'clock that Bindle re-appeared with the intimation that he was ready to conduct Mr. Hearty to call upon Farmer Timkins with regard to the strawberries, the purchase of which had been the object of Mr. Hearty's visit.
"Won't you come, too, Elizabeth?" enquired Mr. Hearty, turning to Mrs. Bindle.
"Thank you, Mr. Hearty, I should like to," she replied, tightening her bonnet strings as if in anticipation of further violent movement.