“There’s the ginger-haired girl,” said Barry, indifferently. “Regular farm-hand, isn’t she?”
“I shouldn’t wonder if she could teach you a thing or two, old man,” said his father.
“Me!” There was ineffable scorn in the boy’s tone as he climbed out to open the gate. “I don’t think I’ll worry any of the wild natives for lessons, thanks!”
CHAPTER VII
A BUSINESS ARRANGEMENT
“I could ask Mrs. Hurst, of course,” said Mrs. Lane, doubtfully. “I wonder if she would be offended?”
“Not a bit likely, I should think,” her husband answered. “She strikes one as far too sensible a woman to be offended by a simple business proposal. And it might suit her very well: I gathered from something she said last night that they have not much money.”
“And you would not be bored—you and Barry?”
“Barry and I want to fish,” said Dr. Lane. “And here we’re right in the midst of it. I might have explored round here by myself for a week without finding that little creek young Robin showed me last night—and you wouldn’t have had trout for breakfast, my dear!” His eye kindled at the recollection of the previous evening. “Nearly three pounds, the biggest fellow weighed; and four others of quite a respectable size! After failing to get a rise all day it was almost exciting, I tell you, Milly!”
“Yes, dear, it was lovely for you,” said Mrs. Lane, with wifely sympathy. “And how perfectly Mrs. Hurst cooked them!”
“Couldn’t have been better. It was a cheerful contrast to the greasy chops at the Baroin hotel. Of course it will be dull for you, dear, I’m afraid: but not so dull as it would be in the township, I’m certain. If you would let me take you home—”