The beggar laughed.
“You must be the daughter of the Broby clergyman.”
“Yes, yes, I am indeed. Many have poorer fathers, but none have worse. That’s the Lord’s truth, although it’s a shame that his own child should have to say it.”
“I hear he is mean and ill-natured, your father.”
“Mean he is, and ill-natured he is, but they say his daughter will be worse if she lives so long; that’s what people say.”
“I fancy people are right. What I would like to know is, where you found this meal-bag.”
“It makes no difference if I tell you. I took the grain out of father’s store-house this morning, and now I have been to the mill.”
“May he not see you when you come dragging it behind you?”
“You have left school too early. Father is away on his parish visits, can’t you see?”
“Somebody is driving up the hill behind us; I hear the creaking of the runners. Think if it were he who is coming!”