Jane Edwards was overtired, and lost her temper. 'You could not expect me to be baking and churning at the same time,' she jerked out angrily, feeling already warm with her morning's work.
Here was the opportunity Rhys had looked for.
'You had better have had Cate here this morning to churn. Then you would not have been so hurried, and our dinner would not have been spoiled.'
'Spoiled, indeed! I have seen the time you would all have been glad of hot potatoes and salt, without milk at all,' was retorted.
William and Davy rushed to the rescue, rightly interpreting the mother's frown. 'I'll stay and churn for you,' they cried in a breath.
'You'll do nothing of the kind. If those potatoes are not all in, and covered up, they will be ruined. There was a touch of frost this morning. And who's to do the milking?' said autocratic Rhys.
Jonet and William proffered their services, only to be rebuffed. This was followed by a sharp altercation between the two brothers, widening the existing breach, and—though William, out of consideration for his mother, who interposed, did not bounce off and absent himself as usual—it ended in the despatch of Lewis with a message to Cate, and the speedy arrival of the girl, as if she had expected the summons.
Mrs. Edwards was taking a loaf of bread out of the oven when Cate came in at the open door, and possibly set the harassed widow's red face down to the heat of the oven—not to her temper.
'Lewis do be saying you do be wanting me to churn. I shall be glad to help you any way, whatever,' Cate began demurely, just as if she had not exchanged a syllable first with Rhys over the wall by the gateway.
'Yes, yes, sure. Mr. Pryse stopped the baking yesterday, and Ales be gone to Cardiff, so we are late; and I must have the butter ready for to-morrow's market.'