CHAPTER III.—MATT MAKES HER FIRST APPEARANCE.
Eureka! I have had an adventure at last; and yet, after all, what am I talking about? It is no adventure at all, but only a commonplace incident. This is how it happened.
“I was seated this morning before my easel, out in the open air, painting busily, when I thought I heard a movement behind me.
“I should have premised, by the way, that Tim had gone off on another excursion into the Jones’s territory, on the quest for more eggs and milk.
“I glanced over my shoulder, and saw, peering round the corner of my white sunshade, a pair of large eager eyes—fixed, not upon me, but upon the canvas I was painting.
“Not in the least surprised, I thought to myself, ‘At last! The caravan has exercised its spell upon the district, and the usual audience is beginning to gather.’ So I went tranquilly on with my work, and paid no more attention.
“Presently, however, fatigued with my work, I indulged in a great yawn, and rose to stretch myself. I then perceived that my audience was more select than numerous, consisting of only one individual—a young person in a Welsh chimney-pot hat. Closer observation showed me that said hat was set on a head of closely cropped curly black hair, beneath which there shone a brown boyish face freckled with sun and wind, a pair of bright black eyes, and a laughing mouth with two rows of the whitest of teeth. But the face, though boyish, did not belong to a boy. The young person was dressed in an old cotton gown, had a coloured woollen shawl or scarf thrown oyer the shoulders, and wore thick woollen stockings and rough shoes, the latter many sizes too large. The gown was too short for the wearer, who had evidently outgrown it; it reached only just below the knee, and when the young person moved one caught a glimpse of something very much resembling a dilapidated garter.
“The young person’s smile was so bright and good-humoured that I found myself answering it with a friendly nod.
“‘How are you?’ I said gallantly. ‘I hope you are quite well?’