"And how will you understand their answer, Mamie?" Kate Glendinning asked.
"I will read that in their faces," was the reply.
It was quite clear that the young proprietress had in no wise been disheartened by that first interview with one of her tenants on the previous evening. This fair-shining morning found her as full of ardent enthusiasm, of generous aspirations, as ever; and here was the carriage awaiting them; and here was Mr. Purdie, obsequious; and even Käthchen looked forward with eagerness to getting a general view of the estate. Then their setting forth was entirely cheerful; the Spring air was sweet around them; the sunlight lay warm on the larches and on the tall and thick-stemmed bushes of gorse that were all a blaze of gold. But it was not of landscape that Mary Stanley was thinking; it was of human beings; and the first human being she saw was a little old woman who was patiently trudging along with a heavy creel of peats strapped on her back.
"The poor old woman!" she exclaimed, with an infinite compassion in her eyes. "Doesn't it seem hard she should have to work at her time of life?"
"She's a good deal better off than if she were in Seven Dials or the Bowery," said Käthchen. "But perhaps you would like to give her a seat in the carriage?"
"You may laugh if you like," said Mary, quite simply, "but it seems to me it would be more becoming if that poor old woman were sitting here and I were carrying the creel. However, I suppose we shall have to begin with something more practicable."
But was it more practicable?—that was the question she had speedily to put to herself. For no sooner had they left the wooded 'policies' and surroundings of Lochgarra House than they entered upon a stretch of country the sterility of which might have appalled her if only she had fully comprehended it. Land such as the poorest of Galway peasants would have shunned—an Arabia Petræa—rocks, stones, and heather—wave upon wave of Hebridean gneiss, the ruddy-grey knolls and dips and heights showing hardly a trace of vegetation or of soil. And yet there were human beings here, busy on their small patches; and there were hovels, some of them thatched, others covered over with turf tied down by ropes; while now and again there appeared a smarter cottage, with a slated roof, and lozenge-panes of glass in the window. Moreover, they had now come in sight of the sea again; yonder was a far-stretching bay of silvery sand; and out at the margin of the water, which was at lowest ebb, there were a number of people, mostly women and young lads and girls, stooping at work; while an occasional small dark figure, with a hump on its back, was seen to be crossing the expanse of white.
"What are they doing, Mr. Purdie?" Mary asked.
"They're cutting seaware for manure to put on their crofts," was the answer.
And at the same moment her attention was drawn to a man not far from the roadside who, in his little bit of rocky ground, was making use of an implement the like of which she had never seen or heard of.