"Yes, ma'am."
"Again I hope I am not in your way. I've been over to see the carter's widow at Socknersh—he died two days ago, you know, and she hasn't a penny to go on with. Then when I saw the storm coming I thought I would take a short cut home across the fields; I was caught after all—and here I am!"
She smiled suddenly as she finished speaking. It was a sweet smile, rather aloof, but lighting up the whole of her face with a sudden flash of youth and kindness. Richard gazed at her, half fascinated, and mumbled lamely—"you're welcome, ma'am."
She suddenly caught sight of his Latin grammar.
"That's a strange thing to see in a shepherd's hand."
He felt encouraged, for he had wanted her to see the difference between him and an ordinary shepherd, but had been too awkward to show her.
"I've had it three months—I can construe a bit of Horace now."
"Acquam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem," said Anne.
"Onmes eodem cogimen," said Richard, and blushed.
There was silence, but not of the former discouraging sort. Richard was even bold enough to break it: