"Here, Ma'am!" said he "can't you let this child go with me?
I want her along to help feed the sheep."
To Ellen's astonishment, her aunt called to her through the closed door to "go along, and leave the beans till she came back." Joyfully Ellen obeyed. She turned her back upon the beans, careless of the big heap which would still be there to pick over when she returned, and ran to get her bonnet. In all the time she had been at Thirlwall, something had always prevented her seeing the sheep fed with salt, and she went eagerly out of the door with Mr. Van Brunt to a new pleasure.
They crossed two or three meadows back of the barn, to a low rocky hill covered with trees. On the other side of this, they came to a fine field of spring wheat. Footsteps must not go over the young grain; Ellen and Mr. Van Brunt coasted carefully round by the fence to another piece of rocky woodland, that lay on the far side of the wheat-field. It was a very fine afternoon. The grass was green in the meadow; the trees were beginning to show their leaves; the air was soft and spring-like. In great glee Ellen danced along, luckily needing no entertainment from Mr. Van Brunt, who was devoted to his salt-pan. His natural taciturnity seemed greater than ever; he amused himself all the way over the meadow, with turning over his salt and tasting it, till Ellen laughingly told him, she believed he was as fond of it as the sheep were; and then he took to chucking little bits of it right and left, at anything he saw that was big enough to serve for a mark. Ellen stopped him again, by laughing at his wastefulness; and so they came to the wood. She left him then to do as he liked, while she ran hither and thither to search for flowers. It was slow getting through the wood. He was fain to stop and wait for her.
"Aren't these lovely?" said Ellen, as she came up with her hands full of anemones "and look there's the liverwort. I thought it must be out before now the dear little thing! but I can't find any blood-root, Mr. Van Brunt."
"I guess they're gone," said Mr. Van Brunt.
"I suppose they must," said Ellen. "I am sorry; I like them so much. Oh, I believe I did get them earlier than this two years ago, when I used to take so many walks with you. Only think of my not having been to look for flowers before, this spring."
"It hadn't ought to ha' happened so, that's a fact," said Mr.
Van Brunt; "I don't know how it has."
"Oh! there are my yellow bells!" exclaimed Ellen "oh, you beauties! Aren't they, Mr. Van Brunt?"
"I won't say but what I think an ear of wheat's handsomer," said he, with his half smile.
"Why, Mr. Van Brunt! How can you? but an ear of wheat's pretty, too. Oh, Mr. Van Brunt, what is that? Do you get me some of it, will you, please? Oh, how beautiful! what is it?"