One of these, young enough to be uncertain on
its feet, in running to join some others stumbled and fell on the path
before her. Opening its mouth in the inevitable resultant roar, it was
shocked almost into silence by the tall young lady stooping at once,
picking it up, and cheerfully dusting its pinafore.
"Don't cry," she said; "you are not hurt, you know."
The deep dimple near her mouth showed itself, and the laugh in her eyes
was so reassuring that the penny she put into the grubby hand was less
productive of effect than her mere self. She walked on, leaving the
group staring after her breathless, because of a sense of having met
with a wonderful adventure. The grand young lady with the black hair
and the blue hat and tall, straight body was the adventure. She left the
same sense of event with the village itself. They talked of her all day
over their garden palings, on their doorsteps, in the street; of her
looks, of her height, of the black rim of lashes round her eyes, of
the chance that she might be rich and ready to give half-crowns and
sovereigns, of the "Meriker" she had come from, and above all of the
reason for her coming.
Betty swung with the light, firm step of a good walker out on to the
highway.
Pages:
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258