“Where is Uncle Ralph?” asked Mildred.
“Why, that gander you’ve been chasin’; and he’s about the harn’somest bird I know on, too. Talk about swans! there never was a finer neck, nor a prettier coat of feathers on anything that ever swum. His wings are powerful; only let him spread ’em, and up he goes; but as for his feet, he limps just a little, as you see. No offence, Lizzy. I love your father as well as you do; but when I hear him, with his idees so grand,—the minister don’t begin with him,—and yet to be bothered, as he is sometimes, to get a word out, I think of my good old fellow here, whose wings are so much better’n his legs. Come here, Ralph! You see he knows his name. There!”—patting his head,—“that’s a good fellow! Now go and help marm attend to your goslins.”
The kindly tone and the caress took away from the comparison any idea of disrespect, and the girls laughed at the odd conceit,—Lizzy, at least, not a little proud of the implied compliment. Mr. Alford left them, to attend to his affairs, and they went on with their romp,—running on the top of the smooth wall beside the meadow, gathering clusters of lilac blossoms from the fatherly great posy that grew on the sunny side of the house, and admiring the solitary state of the peacock, as, with dainty step, he trailed his royal robe over the sward. Soon they heard voices at the house, and, going round the corner of the shed, saw Uncle Ralph and Mark Davenport talking with Mr. Alford at the door.
Not to make a mystery of a simple matter, the blacksmith had come to borrow of Mr. Alford the money necessary to make up the amount owing by Mark to the Kinloch estate.
The young man had shown great readiness to accompany his uncle; praiseworthy, certainly; but I am inclined to think he had somehow got an intimation that the girls had preceded him.
Fortunately, the farmer was able to lend the sum wanted, and, as he had an errand in town, he took Mr. Hardwick with him in his wagon.