‘Yes, ’tis real enough,’ said Loveday, looking at the river with balanced sentiments; ‘and so you will say when you’ve lived here a bit as mis’ess, and had the trouble of claning the furniture.’
At this Miss Johnson looked modest, and continued to do so till Anne, not knowing they were there, came round the corner of the house, with her prayer-book in her hand, having just arrived from church. Bob turned and smiled to her, at which Miss Johnson looked glum. How long she would have remained in that phase is unknown, for just then her ears were assailed by a loud bass note from the other side, causing her to jump round.
‘O la! what dreadful thing is it?’ she exclaimed, and beheld a cow of Loveday’s, of the name of Crumpler, standing close to her shoulder. It being about milking-time, she had come to look up David and hasten on the operation.
‘O, what a horrid bull!—it did frighten me so. I hope I shan’t faint,’ said Matilda.
The miller immediately used the formula which has been uttered by the proprietors of live stock ever since Noah’s time. ‘She won’t hurt ye. Hoosh, Crumpler! She’s as timid as a mouse, ma’am.’
But as Crumpler persisted in making another terrific inquiry for David, Matilda could not help closing her eyes and saying, ‘O, I shall be gored to death!’ her head falling back upon Bob’s shoulder, which—seeing the urgent circumstances, and knowing her delicate nature—he had providentially placed in a position to catch her. Anne Garland, who had been standing at the corner of the house, not knowing whether to go back or come on, at this felt her womanly sympathies aroused. She ran and dipped her handkerchief into the splashing mill-tail, and with it damped Matilda’s face. But as her eyes still remained closed, Bob, to increase the effect, took the handkerchief from Anne and wrung it out on the bridge of Matilda’s nose, whence it ran over the rest of her face in a stream.
‘O, Captain Loveday!’ said Anne, ‘the water is running over her green silk handkerchief, and into her pretty reticule!’
‘There—if I didn’t think so!’ exclaimed Matilda, opening her eyes, starting up, and promptly pulling out her own handkerchief, with which she wiped away the drops, and an unimportant trifle of her complexion, assisted by Anne, who, in spite of her background of antagonistic emotions, could not help being interested.
‘That’s right!’ said the miller, his spirits reviving with the revival of Matilda. ‘The lady is not used to country life; are you, ma’am?’
‘I am not,’ replied the sufferer. ‘All is so strange about here!’