“But Libbie, do listen,” broke in Diana. “What is that funny noise? Sometimes it sounds like a lot of voices and then again like a barrel organ a long way off.”
“I expect that will be about it,” said Libbie. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s one, playing over at Mr. Tossle’s Farm, on the other side of Primrose Hollow.”
“But you said yesterday, that barrel organs never came into these parts,” persisted Di; and then noting poor Libbie’s confusion, she went on mercilessly, “Why you said yourself, that you hadn’t seen one for twenty years, so it can’t be an organ; you know very well that it is not.”
By this time, Di’s curiosity as to the origin of the mysterious noise, which up to this point had not been so very great, was thoroughly roused. “Libbie,” she said, coming round to where Libbie was at work, and planting her elbows on the table, “Libbie, I’m quite sure now, that you do know what that noise means, and that for some reason, you won’t tell me.
“Whatever next!” exclaimed Libbie, with an air of such ill-used innocence, that it only served to strengthen Di’s suspicions. “Why, what could I know about it?”
“Oh” said Di, coolly, “you do know all about it quite well, you are only pretending not to. Oh! yes, Libbie, you wouldn’t get so fearfully red, if you weren’t.”
“I expect you’d get just as red, Miss Di, if you had all these heavy cheeses to handle on such a piping hot day,” said poor hard-pressed Libbie. “Good me! I declare that was a clap of thunder. Run downstairs quick, do, Miss Di, and ask Mrs. Busson if she didn’t hear it.”
Di burst out laughing. “Oh! I can tell you she didn’t, for as you know there was none to hear. No, Libbie, it’s no good, I’m determined—”
“Coming, coming Ma’am,” shouted Libbie, in answer to a call, which was as imaginary as the thunder, and without giving Di time to say another word, the faithful Libbie fled downstairs.
For a few minutes Di awaited her return; then deciding that she was not coming back, Di thought she would go and help Nellie, in the boiling down of some giant rhubarb stalks, which were to make wine.