Chapter XVII: At the Farm

PUNCTUALLY at half-past two, a wagonette and pair drove up at the front door of The Firs. Seated in it were Dr. and Mrs. Arundel and Vincent Linthorpe.

Ruth had tried to coax her father to accompany them, but he said he was too old for that sort of thing, and he should be happier seeing after the patients.

Ruth looked wistfully at him; he gave her a tender kiss, but would not be moved from his decision.

Dr. Arundel placed them all in the seats which Mary and he had arranged. He told Heston he was sure he would like the box seat, and by the sparkle of Heston's eye, nobody doubted but that he had guessed right.

Mala was packed in first, with Norman and Judith opposite to her, and then the rest got in and found themselves pleasantly disposed, the two gentlemen against the door, and the two girls opposite each other.

"I call this nice!" said Mary, when the horses were fairly off.

"How beautifully you have arranged us," said Ruth, with a glance towards the upper end. "They are so cosy there."

Norman's eyes were watching everything with interest, and as he could not see the horses, or feel responsible in any way, he forgot to be nervous.

Vincent produced some chocolates, which he passed up to the other end after offering them to Ruth and his sister. And under the influence of these, the little party began to be sociable.

"We are going to have tea at a cottage," said Mary presently, when they had exhausted all the exclamations there were at the lovely scenery, the hills and valleys, the river winding in and out, and the blue distances crowned by the Welsh hills.

"A cottage!" exclaimed Ruth. "Where?"

"Ah! Where, indeed? Vincent has been scouring the country on Arthur's cycle this morning, and he has found a lovely sort of farm up ever so far in the hills, where we shall find tea, and bread and butter, and cream!"

The horses were walking up a long hill at the moment, so Heston heard this part of the conversation.

"Cream!" he echoed. "That's prime."

"And under your seat, Heston, unless they have been left behind," laughed Mary, "there are sundry cakes! The landlady at the farm looked askance at the idea of cakes at a moment's notice, so Vincent told her 'we could buy up the confectioner's.'"

"What 'did' she say?" asked Ruth, of Vincent.

"She looked me up and down to see if I were a duke or somebody of the millionaire kind, and then she saw my eyes, and she laughed. 'All right; "you" see to the cakes and I'll see to the bread and butter,' was her final shot."

After about an hour, they reached the farm, and they all got out. The cakes were found to be safe, and a man came forward to help with the horses.

Wraps and coats were taken into the house, and the landlady told them where the best view of the mountains was to be obtained, "or they could go round the farm if they pleased, and see the creatures, as all the young folks likes to do."

Heston decided on the latter plan, especially as the landlady had remarked that "there was their old pony that the young lady or gentleman could ride if they pleased."

Judith's eyes brightened: it reminded her of India, and she went with Heston with more alacrity in her step than she had shown since her arrival.

Ruth looked undecided whether to follow her charge or not, but Mary whispered, "Let them go, dearest, they will be safe with Heston; and, poor children, it must be very perplexing to have to see so many strangers!"

"Yes," said Ruth, with filling eyes, "I am so sorry for them—and for myself!"

"It will be better soon," said Mary.

"Oh, yes, and it is all right even now; but sometimes, it seems to surge over me that the comfort of being alone is gone."

"That will be better too, presently, when they go to school."

Vincent and Dr. Arundel had been watching the horses put up, and now returned, and they all started to see the view.

How lovely it was! Ruth held her breath as she stood silently gazing.

"Doesn't it make you feel like heaven!" she said to Mary, in a low tone.

But not so low but that Vincent caught it, and smiled. "I think so, too," he said, and then coloured at having seemed to intrude.

"Vincent and I have always shared these sort of things together," said Mary, "and it seems strange for me to be away from him. Sometimes I can hardly believe it can be true."

"I believe it, I can tell you," said Vincent, "for not one of the others is 'my' sister like Mary," he added, turning to Ruth. "Mary and I had no need to talk much, we understood without."

"I have never had a sister or a brother," said Ruth, slowly. "Mary seems the nearest to it that I know, and she is—inexpressibly dear!"

Vincent could quite believe it, as he knew what Mary was.

"Well, I will go and see about tea," said Mary. "You come when you have had enough view!"

She ran off, laughing, and Ruth wanted to help her, but Vincent said he must just show her a discovery he had made that morning, and invited Arthur to come and see it too.

But Arthur said he was lazy, and meant to have a doze.

So he led the way round the barn, and in another moment, he and Ruth came upon a bit of ivy-covered ruin, standing on the very edge of a sharp, precipitous piece of ground, which sank away down and down without a break right to some green meadows far beneath, where the cows and sheep looked like little red and grey dots.

"There!" said Vincent. "How does that make you feel! Though, indeed, I must apologise for having spoken of what was not intended for my ears!"

"Oh, never mind," said Ruth. "No, this has not the same feeling as that other view for me. I think this reminds me of earth more—and—do you think, one might say it reminded one a little of the twenty-third Psalm—

"'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.'

"It is so peaceful down there with those sheep."

Vincent looked in silence after one glance at her face.

"Yes, I think you are right," he answered, quietly.

"I am going to find the children," said Ruth, after they had looked for a few moments. "I hear their voices quite near. Perhaps they are in this barn?"

And there they were found, watching the milking of the cows with intense interest.

"We are to have the pony after tea," said Heston, "the men were busy just now!"

Oh, what a farmhouse kitchen that was! How their eyes went round and round, admiring the bright pewter plates and shining candlesticks on the high mantleshelf; and the low, latticed windows stretching the whole length of the southern wall, and open now on to the old-fashioned garden, where stocks and roses and Sweet Williams, lilac and guelder roses, made up the soft summer fragrance that seems to rest the spirit and speak of peace.

Ruth could hardly bear to turn her eyes, even to the welcome tea.

But Heston told her she must not go dreaming in daylight, and Vincent handed her a knife, and told her to cut Mary's cakes, and see if he had bought nice ones!