"Mother," said Hugh, "I have had a most extraordinary letter."
"From Mr. Grant?" said the old lady, "What does he say?"
She saw by her son's face that there was something more than usual
in the wind, but one who had lived her life, from fortune to poverty,
through strife and trial, was prepared to take things much more
easily than Hugh.
"Is it anything very serious?"
"His daughter's coming out to live here."
"What?"
"Yes, here's the letter. It only came this morning. Patsy was late,
the river is up. I'll read it to you."
Seating himself at the table, Hugh spread out the letter, and read
it:-Dear Gordon, The last lot of wethers, though they topped the market, only
realised 10/-. I think you would show better judgment in keeping
these sheep back a little. Don't rely upon Satton's advice. He is
generally wrong, and is always most wrong when he is most sure he
is right.
My daughter has arrived from England, and will at once go up to the
station. I have written to your mother on the subject. My daughter
will represent me in everything, so I wish her to learn a little
about stations. Send to meet her at the train on Wednesday next.
Yours truly,
W. G. GRANT.
"Wednesday next!" said Hugh, "that letter is three days delayed.
Patsy couldn't cross the river. She'll be there before we can possibly
get down. If no one meets her I wonder if she'll have pluck enough
to get into the coach and come on to Donohoe's."
"I don't envy her the trip, if she does," said Miss Harriott. "The
coach-drive over those roads will seem awful to an English girl."
"I'll have to go down at once, anyhow," said Hugh, "and meet her
on the road somewhere. If she is at the railway, I can get there
in two days. Have you a letter, Mother?"
"Yes," said the old lady, "but I won't show it to you now. You
shall see it some other time."
"Well, I'll set about making a start," said Hugh. "What trap had
I better take?"
"You'd better take the big waggonette," said the old lady, in her
soft voice. "A young girl just out from England is sure to have a
great deal of luggage, you know. I wonder if she is anything like
Mr. Grant. I hope her temper is a little bit better."
"You'd better come down with me, Miss Harriott, to meet her," said
Hugh. "I don't suppose your luggage would be a load there and back,
anyhow."
"What about crossing the river?" said the old lady.
"Oh, we'll get across somehow," said Hugh, "will you come?"
"I think I'll wait," said the young lady meditatively, "She'll be
tired from travelling and looking after her luggage, and she had
better meet the family one at a time. You go and meet her, and your
mother and I will get her room ready. Does the letter say any more
about her?"