“Well, now, I asked you to see to that,” said Pickett reproachfully. “I said to you this morning, ‘I want you to see to them fowl-houses yourself, and mind there is paraffin put in the limewash,’ and I said it was to be put on hot, and the runs scraped and cleaned, and coated with lime, and the nest-boxes limewashed, and all the litter burned. Them directions were plain enough, I should have thought!”
“Minnie has been plucking and trussing fowls for the market all day,” put in Mrs. Pickett in defence. “She has done a good day’s work.”
“There won’t be any to truss if the fowl-houses are neglected,” rejoined Pickett; “but let us have tea. I could drink the sea dry, I’m that thirsty! and I daresay Mrs. Hannington is quite ready for a cup.”
“That I am,” acknowledged the lady with a broad smile. “It’s hotter than I ever remember for years, anyway. But this house-place of yours keeps cool. It’s the flagged floor, I suppose.”
Minnie, who brought in the teapot just then, looked hot enough. But the weather had not much to do with it. Mrs. Hannington always irritated the girl, and, besides, her father had reproved her. But evening would come, and she would hear a whistle round by the rickyard, and would slip out into the moonlight to meet someone. The thought came as sweet balm to her spirits.
There was little balm, however, for the spirits of poor Eweretta.
Eweretta at that very time was watching from her chamber window, watching her old lover and Phyllis Lane taking tea together on the verandah.
How soon men forget!
CHAPTER XIV
“AND WHAT A NOBLE PLOT WAS CROSSED”
It was the habit of Mrs. Barrimore and Mr. Robert Burns to put off what they called their summer holiday until September. They hated to leave the beautiful garden at Hawk’s Nest, till the dahlias came. They loved the gathering of young folks about them for tennis and croquet, and devoted one afternoon a week to this entertainment, going in turn to the garden-parties of their friends.