"
"That's a good neighbourly offer, and I'll accept it," answered Miss
Sally. "I could ride over to Meriton myself, of course. But Tossell
has promised to bring the children to Culvercoombe in the early
afternoon, and this will give you an excuse to be present. Some
questions may occur to you between this and then; and, anyway, I'd like
to have you handy."
No more was said. They parted, having come to a point where the rising
moon showed their paths lying separate across the moor. Their lonely
homes lay eight miles apart. Even by daylight one unaccustomed to the
moor could hardly have detected the point where the track divided in the
smothering heather. But these two could have found it even in the dark;
being hunters both, and children of the moor, born and bred.
Had they known it, even while they talked together, something was
happening to upset their plans for the morrow, and for days to come.
The children, as they left the parlour, had been intercepted by Mrs.
Tossell with the information that tea was ready for them in the kitchen.
"Wot, another meal?" said Tilda.
Twenty-four hours ago a world that actually provided too much to eat
would have been inconceivable by her.
Pages:
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340