That brought them face to face again. “It's so sweet to have some one to talk to about Pete,” said Kate.
“Yes?”
“I don't know how I could bear his long absence but for that.”
“Are you longing so much, Kate?”
“Oh, no, not longing—not to say longing. Only you can't think what it is to be... have you never been yourself, Philip?”
“What?” “Hold it tight... in love? No?”
“Well,” said Philip, speaking at the crown of the sun-bonnet. “Ha! ha! well, not properly perhaps—I don't—I can hardly say, Kate.”
“There! You've let it go, after all, and she's covered me with the milk! But I'm finished, anyway.”
Kate was suddenly radiant. She kissed Horney, and hugged her calf in the adjoining stall; and as they crossed the haggard, Philip carrying the pail, she scattered great handfuls of oats to a cock and his two hens as they cackled their way to roost.
“You'll be sure to come again soon, Philip, eh? It's so sweet to have some one to remind me of——” but Pete's name choked her now. “Not that I'm likely to forget him—now is that likely? But it's such a weary time to be left alone, and a girl gets longing. Did I now? Give me the milk, then. Did I say I wasn't? Well, you can't expect a girl to be always reasonable.”