"You are welcome, George Hamon," she said. "What mischief are you and Phil plotting now?"
"Aw, then! It's a bad character you give me, Rachel."
"I know he goes to you for advice, and he might do worse. He's been restless since he came home. What is it?"
"Young blood must have its chance, you know. And change of pasture is good for young calves, as Jeanne Falla says."
"Hasn't he had change enough?"
"Where is Philip?"
"Down vraicking with Krok in Saignie. A big drift came in this morning, and we want all we can get for the fields."
"Give them a hand, Phil, and then bring your grandfather along. And I'll talk to your mother."
My grandfather and Krok had got most of the seaweed drawn up onto the stones above tide-level, and as soon as we had secured the rest they came up to the house with me, wet and hungry. I had told my grandfather simply that George Hamon was there, but said nothing about our business. He greeted him warmly.
"George, my boy, you should come in oftener."