“Make it pounds, and you shall have a cheque whenever you like to send her over,” he said.
“Oh! what good fortune,” exclaimed Heather, “of course you sent her, Alick;” but the lad’s countenance fell. “Arthur——” he began, at which point Arthur took up his parable for himself.
“The filly will be worth three hundred next year,” he said; “Lord Kemms shall not coin money out of me.”
For a minute there ensued a dead silence, then Heather, turning to Agnes, said, “And how are the chickens going on, dear?”
“Oh! we have got five sets more out since you left,” was the reply; “there are fifty of the sweetest little chucks you ever saw, just pecking——”
“And two fresh calves, mother,” broke in Lucy Dudley.
“And pigeons without end,” added Cuthbert; “and I found in the pea-hen’s nest four young ones; and, mother, the long meadow is all mowed, and we shall have the grandest crop, Ridley says, ever came off it; and we have painted the gates in honour of your coming back, and the garden is as neat as neat, not a weed; and Alick and I rolled the grass and the drive this morning, and nailed up the clematis that the wind tore down the other night, and Aggy and Alick have covered your sofa, and Lucy has——”
“Hush, Cuthbert, don’t tell tales,” interposed Lucy, laughing; whereupon Heather, with a smile to both, stretched her hand over towards the boy, who took it in both of his.
“May I add my mite to the family news?” interposed Bessie at this juncture. “I have trained Beauty to beg, and taught Muff to stand in a corner; I have nearly broken my neck trying to learn to ride; I was tumbled completely over attempting to milk Cowslip, an ill-conditioned beast, who did not in the least appreciate my delicate attentions.”
“Oh, mother! it was such fun,” said Laura; “you should have seen Bessie sprawling on the grass, and Cowslip looking at her; Alick held her horns, and Cuthbert her tail, and Agnes showed Bessie how to milk, but it was all of no use.”