"Yes, I've been for a walk," he answered, huffily, for he was beginning to feel that matters at Woodside Farm were a little too much for him.
"Towsey says you went out directly the pony was put to."
"That's all right. What then?"
"Where's Margaret?"
"Up in the wood there," he said, nodding towards it, "with a young lady who, judging from her conversation, has swallowed a bottle of soothing syrup and let the cork come out inside her."
"And what did you go up to the wood for?" Hannah asked, severely.
"Because I chose. Look here, Miss Barton, I don't want to be cross-examined, if you please."
"Well, what I should like to know is—to speak plainly—what are you coming here for, Mr. Garratt?"
"That's my business," he answered. "If you like I'll put the pony to at once and be done with it, though, on the whole, I should prefer having some dinner first, seeing that I've come a good way." After all, Mr. Garratt had a fair temper, for he said the last words with a smile that somewhat pacified Hannah, who, seeing that she was likely to get the worst of it, drew in her horns.
"I didn't mean to be disagreeable," she said, "but really it's difficult to understand all the goings on here."