"Do you know where I could find a girl to do housework, sir?" asked Mrs. Harding, leaning forward in her carriage, and addressing the man.
"Wal, yes," said he of the broad collar; "I've got a darter'd be glad to go; but she ain't to home. She went to work to the Falls last week, but she ain't a gwine to stay but three or four weeks. If she was to home, she'd be glad to go."
"Do you know of any others who go out?" said Mrs. Harding, who thought there was but little prospect of getting his daughter Sally.
"Not as I knows on," said Mr. of the broad collar. "You couldn't wait three or four weeks, I s'pose."
"No," was the reply; and she laid her hand upon Walter's arm, as a signal to drive on.
"We came pretty near getting a girl that time," said Walter, laughing.
"Quite as near as was best for us. It is well that Sally is gone, I dare say," replied his mother, with a smile.
Patient toiling brought them at last up a long, rugged hill, upon the other side of which spread out Seccombe Plains.
"Here is a house; shall we inquire here?" said Walter, pointing to a rude little house or hovel which stood upon the hill-top, upon a level spot which was covered with large granite boulders and unsightly brush.
"Yes," said his mother, as she espied a man coming round the corner of the house. "It can do no harm to inquire."