The buzzing at the front door continued, and the increased current of air made the fire to roar up the wide kitchen chimney.
For goodness sake, why dont they come in? exclaimed Mrs Portlock. That girl will catch her death o cold.
She made this remark also in confidence to the brass-dialled eight-day clock, at the top of which a grotesque-looking human-faced sun was just peering over an engraved arc, above which it revolved in company with various other planets when the mechanism within properly worked; and, after making the remark, Mrs Portlocks wooden spoon began once more to batter the already well-beaten eggs, between pauses
to listen what was going on at the door.
I hate such shilly-shallying ways, she muttered. Hes come on purpose to see us, so why does he loiter there at the door? Ill be bound to say if it was young Cyril Mallow hed have been here by now.
The mention of this name made Mrs Portlock pause and rub her face thoughtfully with one corner of her apron.
I dont see why not, she muttered. Im sure he likes her, or else he wouldnt be so fond of coming out here to smoke a pipe with Joseph. And if they are gentry, why, gentry are only human flesh; and as to their money, Ill be bound to say theyre not so much better off than we are, in spite of their show.
There was another fierce attack upon the golden fluid in the white basin.
He seems nice, does Cyril; very different to his brother. Poor Rue, she had an escape there; and I dare say this will only be a bit of a flirtation with both of them. I shall not interfere, and matters may go as they like.
The eggs once more suffered from the severe attack.
Its my belief Sage dont know her own mind, exclaimed Mrs Portlock. Here, Anne, bring some more coals to this fire; I want the oven to be well hot.
Just then there was the sound of the closing door, and Luke Ross entered, followed by Sage, looking more conscious than before.
Morning, Mrs Portlock, cried the young man frankly.
Good-morning, Luke, she replied. Why didnt you take him in the parlour, Sage? Theres a good fire there.
Because I begged to be allowed to come here, Mrs Portlock, so as not interfere with the preparations. My father said he would be glad to come.
Ah, thats right! exclaimed Mrs Portlock. There, sit down by the fire; you must want a bit o lunch. Sage! why, bless the girl, I didnt see her go.
She has gone up-stairs, I think, said Luke.
To put her hair straight or some nonsense, when we are that busy that we shall never be ready in time.
No, no, Mrs Portlock, said Luke, who looked hot and nervous, and instead of taking a chair by the fire, he edged away to stand by the crockery-covered dresser, with his back half turned from the light; I think she has gone up-stairs on account of what I wanted to say.
There, there, there, said Mrs Portlock, labouring frantically now at the egg-beating, I think I know whats coming, and Id a deal rather you wouldnt say a word to me about it.
Luke Ross looked discomfited and troubled, and became exceedingly interested for a moment in the little silk band of his soft felt hat.
But surely, Mrs Portlock, he began at last, you must have known that I was deeply attached to Sage?
Well, yes, I suppose I did, replied Mrs Portlock; and this time some of the yellow egg flew over the basin side; but its a very serious matter.
Indeed, yes, said Luke, quietly, I look upon it as the turning-point of my life.
And I dont believe that Sage half knows her own mind yet. Shes too young, and its not as if she was my own child.
But we can wait, Mrs Portlock, said Luke, gaining confidence, now that he had made the first plunge. Of course we should have to wait for some time.
Wont say anything about it, cried Mrs Portlock, as the sturdy red-faced servant-maid entered to pour a half-scuttle of coals on the roaring fire. If you want to talk about it
Mrs Portlock here began to work viciously with a piece of nutmeg, the eggs being considered enough beaten.
I should be sorry to hurt your feelings about this matter, Mrs Portlock, continued Luke; but I have always thought you looked upon Sage and me as being as good as engaged.
Oh, I dont know! I cant say! There, I wont say anything about it. Oh! heres Master, and you must talk to him.
Luke Rosss face wore a particularly troubled look, as a hearty, bluff voice was just then heard bidding a dog lie down, and, directly after, the kitchen door was thrown open, and the broad-shouldered bluff Churchwarden, in his loose brown velveteen coat and cord breeches with leather leggings, entered the room. His clear blue eyes and crisp grey hair made him look the very embodiment of health, and his face lit up with a pleasant smile as he strode in with a double gun under his arm, while his pockets had a peculiarly bulgy appearance at the sides.
Ah, Luke, my lad! how are you? he said, bluffly, as he held out his hand. Glad to see you, my boy. Why, you ought to have been out with me for a run. Thy face looks as pasty as owt.