'But,' Dorothea went on, 'they have some spare rooms at the farm, and occasionally they have had thoughts of letting them—I mean, of taking lodgers. But they're very plainly furnished, and she's always busy, so her husband was rather afraid of beginning it. She wouldn't exactly like to offer them, but she says if my friends would go down to see the rooms, and thought they'd do, she would be pleased to do her best. I can guarantee they'd be beautifully clean.'
Dorothea looked quite excited about it. She was so proud of being able to help mums.
'I think it sounds charming,' said mother. 'How many rooms are there?'
'Two big bedrooms, and a tiny one, and a sort of best kitchen that could be made comfortable in a plain way as a sitting-room,' said Dorothea consulting the letter. 'You could take down a few sofa rugs, and two or three folding chairs and so on, I daresay?'
'Oh yes, easily,' said mother. 'But I quite agree with Mrs. Parsley that I had better see the rooms. How long does it take by train, and how far is the farm—what's the name of it, by the bye?—from the station?'
'About a mile and a half. But they have a pony-cart of some kind and could meet you. The name is Mossmoor—Mossmoor Farm, Fewforest.'
It seemed wonderfully lucky. We were all three as pleased as anything. There was only one thing I wanted to make sure of.
'Mums,' I whispered. I was just giving her her second cup of tea. I always make her tea when we're alone. 'Mums, if you do go down one day to see the farm, you'll take me with you, won't you?'
Cousin Dorothea has quick ears. She overheard.
'Oh yes, Valeria,' she said, 'you must take him. I consider it's more than half thanks to him that we've thought of it.'