“But you do not realize our limitations,” she said. “I can’t always get good meat out here—I have to put up with whatever the travelling cart brings, three times a week. And there are other difficulties. Robin and I live so simply that we do not notice them, but to you—from Melbourne . . . .” She paused unhappily, and he laughed at her again.
“As it happens, meat does not matter much to any of us,” he said. “Fish—such trout as these—is a treat to us, and so are rabbits, which we dare not touch in Melbourne. Barry and I can shoot and fish for the pot, which will give us an extra incentive to do well. Try us for a week, Mrs. Hurst, and see if we give you too much trouble.”
Mrs. Hurst had agreed, with some misgivings, and inwardly wondering how Robin would view the matter. But Robin was frankly delighted.
“Why, we’ll make heaps of money!” she said. “And it will be rather fine, Mother, to have people about: I don’t much like the boy, but his father and mother are dears.”
“Why don’t you like the boy? He seems civil enough.”
“Oh, he’s civil,” said Robin, tilting her nose. “But he thinks too much of himself, and he looks at my hair! He has a kind of lofty manner, as if he thought it was very nice for the country that he came to stay there.”
“Poor Barry!” said Mrs. Hurst, smiling. “Aren’t you a little hard on him?”
“Well, I may be,” admitted Robin. “But I haven’t much time for boys, especially town ones. Danny is worth a paddockful of them! I say, Mother, are you sure it won’t give you too much work?”
“I shan’t mind it at all. I must drop other things, more or less: but the garden is in such good order that it won’t suffer. The sewing can wait.”
“Well, of course I’ll do all the rough work,” said Robin, sturdily. “I can be housemaid and slushy, and you can be head cook and lady-of-the-house. ’Tisn’t everyone could double those two parts, but you could cook with one hand tied behind you! Now, if anyone speaks to me when I’m frying fish, it’s all up with either me or the fish! I can run errands for Mrs. Lane, and carry out her trays—we’ll make her live on trays out on the veranda, shall we, Mother?”