‘What! you have persuaded the shy gentleman to become your guest at last? Do you know how I account for his shyness?—he saw you at church, and fell in love with you. That’s how it is, and he won’t come here because he was afraid of you. Lovers are always shy—at first.’
‘Thou art a foolish lad, Philip, and yet no shining example of the shyness of lovers. Were they all like thee, no maiden would lose a sweetheart for lack of boldness on his part. Art not ashamed?’
‘I am, Aunt Hessy,’ he answered with his boyish laugh, ‘ashamed that you cannot understand how we are all your lovers—and ought to be.’
‘That will do.’ But although she spoke with much decision in her tone, there was no displeasure in her comely face. She understood him.
‘I won’t say another word, except to ask you how you have conquered Mr Beecham?’
‘Ah, but we are not sure that we have conquered him yet. He was with Dick this morning, and gave him some help with the cattle. Dick is in the barn with them now, for he is afraid there’s trouble coming to them.’
‘And I suppose he is angrier than ever about the live-stock brought into the market from abroad?’
‘It is making him anxious, and with reason. Well, he wanted his friend to come and take dinner; but Mr Beecham said he would rather come in some evening soon and take tea with us. So, in the afternoon I sent Madge off to the village, and bade her make him come this evening. I don’t know what’s come of her. She’s been away more than three hours, and she is not one to loiter on the road.’
‘Which way do you think they’ll come?’ asked Philip, rising quickly from his seat.
‘By the meadows, of course. She never comes round by the road except when driving.’