Mr. Goring paused, and prodded the ground with the end of his stick.
“What a little devil you are!” he exclaimed. “Darn me if this here job isn’t a queer business! Here are you, putting yourself out and fussing around, only for a fellow to have what’s due to him. You leave us alone, sweetheart, my young lady and me! I reckon we know what’s best for ourselves, without you thrusting your hand in.”
“But you might just walk up that way, uncle; it isn’t far over the hill. I’d give—oh, I don’t know what!—to see you two together. She wants to be teased a little, you know! She’s getting too proud and self-satisfied for anything. It would do her ever so much good to be taught a lesson. It isn’t much to do, is it? Just to give the girl you’re going to marry one little kiss?”
“But how do I know you two wenches aren’t fooling me, even now?” protested the cautious farmer. “’Tis just the sort of maids’ trick ye might set out to play upon a man. How do I know ye haven’t put your two darned little heads together over this job?”
Gladys looked round. They were approaching the Mill Copse.
“Please, uncle,” she cried, “don’t say such things to me. You know I wouldn’t join with anyone against you. Least of all with her! Just do as I tell you, and stroll up to Cæsar’s Quarry about four o’clock. I promise you faithfully I haven’t said a word to her about it. Please, uncle, be nice and kind over this.”
She threw her arms round Mr. Goring’s neck. “You haven’t done anything for me for a long time,” she murmured in her most persuasive tone. “Do you remember how I used to give you butterfly-kisses when I was a little girl, and you kept apples for me in the big loft?”
Mr. Goring’s nature may, or may not have been, as he described it; it is certain that the caresses and cajoleries of his lovely niece had an instantaneous effect upon him. His slow-witted suspicions melted completely under the spell of her touch.
“Well, my pretty,” he said, as they moved on, under the shadowy trees of the park, “may-be, if I’ve nothing else to do and things seem quiet, I’ll take a bit of a walk this afternoon. But you mustn’t count on it. If I do catch sight of ’ee, ’round Cæsar’s way, I’ll let ’ee know. But ’tisn’t a downright promise, mind!”