“She’ve a-got a red ribbon under her collar,” whispered Alice, “Look how she’ve a-done herself up! She’ve curled her hair I d’ ’low.”
“No, no, her hair curls na’trel. Giles ’ull think hisself in luck,” cried Jem, with a wink. “There, I’ve half a mind to try and cut en out if he don’t turn up soon. She be a vitty maid, jist about!”
“‘The vittiest maid in the whole o’ Darset!’” quoted his neighbour.
Meanwhile Hannah slowly approached, a maidenly shyness checking her too eager feet. It would be more seemly for Giles to be there before her, she had thought, and she had not started till five minutes past eight by the cuckoo clock. He was probably already in the wood, looking at her. She reddened at the thought and tripped in the long grass, recovering herself with an awkward lurch. But there was a bright colour in her cheeks, and a pleasantly expectant light in her eyes, perceiving which, the onlookers nudged each other.
Passing through the gap Hannah gave one quick glance round, and finding that Giles was not there, stood for a moment with a look of blank disappointment, then, as the church clock struck eight she smiled to herself.
“I d’ ’low farm clock be fast,” she remarked aloud, and forthwith, deeming herself to be alone, devoted herself to the improvement of her appearance. She shook out her skirts, took off and retied the bow of red ribbon; passed the loosened locks about her brow round her toil-worn finger, and finally, shading her eyes with her hand, gazed somewhat anxiously in the direction of the village.
“Here he be!” whispered Jem all at once. He had crawled a little way on his stomach in order to obtain a better view.
Hannah, perceiving Giles at the same moment, modestly withdrew from the gap, and sitting down at the foot of a twisted thorn-tree began nervously to pluck and chew the scarcely unfolded leaves of wood sorrel which grew beneath it. The heavy tread drew nearer, and presently Giles’ figure appeared in the gap.
Hannah looked up bashfully, a tentative smile hovering about her lips. Giles smiled too, very broadly, and stood contemplating her so long that the interested waiters craned their heads in the endeavour to ascertain the cause of the silence.
“He be jist a-lookin’ at her,” muttered Alice.