Alfred beamed. Fancy, he perceived, had "made a hit." It might be prudent to take her away, and run no risks. If he and she resumed their walk, the elder women would discuss her handsomely. A favourable first impression might become indelible. He got up:
"If you feel good and ready, Miss Broomfield, we might take the road again."
"She be tired out," declared Mrs. Yellam. "Anybody but a man'd see that. You let Miss Broomfield bide along wi' us, Alferd; she can bide so long as she's a mind to."
This was disconcerting both for Alfred and Fancy. Happily for them, Mrs. Mucklow espied an opening for contradiction. She exclaimed derisively:
"What a notion, askin' a young maid to bide along wi' two old women, when every bird i' the trees is a-singing to his mate. But 'tis true, Miss Broomfield be leg-weary, after climbing our hills. Take her down river, Alferd. Do 'ee borrow the miller's boat."
"That I will," said Alfred. "And glad he'll be to oblige me, too. Come on, miss. 'Tis only a step to the mill."
The pair vanished. The elder women looked at each other.
Mrs. Mucklow said slowly:
"I be flambergasted, Susan."
"So be I."