Our Admirable Betty Part 22

"And a dirty fellow, was he?"

"Yes sir, only with a clean voice--soft, like yours. And he give me a groat and says I must take the letter to the Lady Carlyon as lives at Densmere Court----"

"Lady Carlyon!" exclaimed the Major staring. "Good Lord! 'Tis strange, very strange. Sure that was the name, child?"

"Sure, sir--the man did say it over and over and how I must give it to only her. So I went 'long the road, sir, but a grand gentleman came up behind me--so fine he was and grand and asked to see the letter and took it and says as how he will give it to my lady and bid me run away and that's all, sir."

"Well, never grieve, my small maid. You've done no harm--come let me dry those pretty cheeks," which the Major with belaced handkerchief did forthwith. "What's your name, child?" he enquired, lifting her to her feet.

"Charity Bent, sir."

"'Tis a pretty name. Many brothers and sisters?"

"No, sir. I do be all father's got to take care o' him."

"So you take care of him, do you, child?"

"When he be at home, sir, he do work at the great house."

"Which is that?"

"The Manor, sir. And now I must go an' cook his supper, he'll be along home soon."

"Eh--cook?" said the Major, staring at the small speaker. "Child, how old are you?"

"Nine, please sir."

"Lord!" exclaimed the Major, and lifting her up he kissed her rosy cheek and, taking off his hat, stood to watch the small figure flit away down the gra.s.sy way beyond.

Hat in hand he leaned there once again, revolving in his mind the old problem under a new aspect, thus:

Question: Which is the more worthy, a humble village child of nine who cooks her father's supper or a proud and idle young G.o.ddess who wears----

The Major sighed and put on his hat.

CHAPTER XIII

OF INDIGNATION, A WOOD, AND A GIPSY

It was at this juncture that the Major became aware of a tall, buxom, not to say strapping country-wench approaching down the lane, sun-bonnet on head and large basket on comely arm; one garbed as all maids should be, in simple gown that allowed free play to vigorous, young limbs; one who moved with step blithe and purposeful, doubtless busied upon some useful and womanly duty as all women should be.

So thought the Major as he watched the approach of this rustic la.s.s, comparing her in her naturalness and simplicity to wood-nymphs and dryads and G.o.ddesses of groves and fountains, and altogether to the disadvantage of patched and powdered beauties in their coquettish frills and furbelows. Sighing again, he turned to go back.

"G.o.d bless your honour and, so please your honour, a humble good day to your honour!" said a voice.

The Major stopped, wheeled, and dropped his cane:

"Betty!" he exclaimed.

"John!" said she. But, meeting his look, flushed and drooped her lashes, whereupon he fell to stammering.

"I--I was but now--'Tis strange but I was----"

"Thinking of me, Major John?"

"Indeed!" he answered.

"Kindly, Major Jack?"

"Pray," he enquired, "pray--er--are you alone?"

"Momentarily!" she sighed. "But Sir Benjamin Tripp is somewhere about, the Marquis is not far hence and Mr. Marchdale mopes at hand----"

"You mean they seek you----?"

"Most pertinaciously, sir, but quite vainly by reason that I can climb."

"Climb?" repeated the Major, staring, "pray what?"

"A wall, sir."

"Wall?" he murmured.

"Two, sir. I had to run away. They're dear creatures, to be sure, but the Marquis persists in recounting pedigrees of horses and dogs, Sir Benjamin rhapsodises in metre and poor Mr. Marchdale, being very young, is so egregiously in love with me that I climb and clamber over walls and here I am. Pray aid me over this stile ere they find me."

The Major's aid was so energetic and prompt that Lady Betty was over the stile and walking beside him, flushed and a little breathless all in a moment.

"You are forgetting your fine cane, sir," said she in a small voice.

"Aye, to be sure!" And flus.h.i.+ng, he picked it up rather hastily.

"And now prithee my basket--'twould never suit so fine a gentleman."

The Major flushed, seeing which she added: "Though indeed I do like you infinitely so."

"And I," said he impulsively, his keen, bright glance appraising her from head to foot, "I find you infinitely more--more--er--womanly as 'twere--but pray why so large a basket?"

"To carry eggs, sir, and b.u.t.ter and such. Some of your tenants are miserably poor, Major John."

"Hum!" said he, thoughtfully. "And you buy them b.u.t.ter----"

"I make them b.u.t.ter, sir."

"Ha--do you, by Jove!" he exclaimed, his eyes s.h.i.+ning.