And so there was; for behind the curtain drawn across the window-seat no less a man than Uncle Ben was sitting half asleep and weary; and by his side a little girl very quiet and very watchful.  My mother led me to Uncle Ben, and he took my hand without rising, muttering something not over-polite, about my being bigger than ever.  I asked him heartily how he was, and he said, “Well enough, for that matter; but none the better for the noise you great clods have been making.”

“I am sorry if we have disturbed you, sir,” I answered very civilly; “but I knew not that you were here even; and you must allow for harvest time.”

“So it seems,” he replied; “and allow a great deal, including waste and drunkenness.  Now (if you can see so small a thing, after emptying flagons much larger) this is my granddaughter, and my heiress”—­here he glanced at mother—­“my heiress, little Ruth Huckaback.”

“I am very glad to see you, Ruth,” I answered, offering her my hand, which she seemed afraid to take, “welcome to Plover’s Barrows, my good cousin Ruth.”

However, my good cousin Ruth only arose, and made me a curtsey, and lifted her great brown eyes at me, more in fear, as I thought, than kinship.  And if ever any one looked unlike the heiress to great property, it was the little girl before me.

“Come out to the kitchen, dear, and let me chuck you to the ceiling,” I said, just to encourage her; “I always do it to little girls; and then they can see the hams and bacon.”  But Uncle Reuben burst out laughing; and Ruth turned away with a deep rich colour.

“Do you know how old she is, you numskull?” said Uncle Ben, in his dryest drawl; “she was seventeen last July, sir.”

“On the first of July, grandfather,” Ruth whispered, with her back still to me; “but many people will not believe it.”

Here mother came up to my rescue, as she always loved to do; and she said, “If my son may not dance Miss Ruth, at any rate he may dance with her.  We have only been waiting for you, dear John, to have a little harvest dance, with the kitchen door thrown open.  You take Ruth; Uncle Ben take Sally; Master Debby pair off with Polly; and neighbour Nicholas will be good enough, if I can awake him, to stand up with fair Mistress Kebby.  Lizzie will play us the virginal.  Won’t you, Lizzie dear?”

“But who is to dance with you, madam?” Uncle Ben asked, very politely.  “I think you must rearrange your figure.  I have not danced for a score of years; and I will not dance now, while the mistress and the owner of the harvest sits aside neglected.”

“Nay, Master Huckaback,” cried Sally Snowe, with a saucy toss of her hair; “Mistress Ridd is too kind a great deal, in handing you over to me.  You take her; and I will fetch Annie to be my partner this evening.  I like dancing very much better with girls, for they never squeeze and rumple one.  Oh, it is so much nicer!”

“Have no fear for me, my dears,” our mother answered smiling:  “Parson Bowden promised to come back again; I expect him every minute; and he intends to lead me off, and to bring a partner for Annie too, a very pretty young gentleman.  Now begin; and I will join you.”