stion: Which is the more worthy, a humble village child of nine who
cooks her father's supper or a proud and idle young goddess who
wears----

The Major sighed and put on his hat.

CHAPTER XIII

OF INDIGNATION, A WOOD, AND A GIPSY

It was at this juncture that the Major became aware of a tall, buxom,
not to say strapping country-wench approaching down the lane,
sun-bonnet on head and large basket on comely arm; one garbed as all
maids should be, in simple gown that allowed free play to vigorous,
young limbs; one who moved with step blithe and purposeful, doubtless
busied upon some useful and womanly duty as all women should be.

So thought the Major as he watched the approach of this rustic lass,
comparing her in her naturalness and simplicity to wood-nymphs and
dryads and goddesses of groves and fountains, and altogether to the
disadvantage of patched and powdered beauties in their coquettish
frills and furbelows. Sighing again, he turned to go back.

"God bless your honour and, so please your honour, a humble good day to
your honour!" said a voice.

The Major stopped, wheeled, and dropped his cane:

"Betty!" he exclaimed.

"John!" said she. But, meeting his look, flushed and drooped her
lashes, whereupon he fell to stammering.

"I--I was but now--'Tis strange but I was----"

"Thinking of me, Major John?"

"Indeed!" he answered.

"Kindly, Major Jack?"

"Pray," he enquired, "pray--er--are you alone?"

"Momentarily!" she sighed. "But Sir Benjamin Tripp is somewhere about,
the Marquis is not far hence and Mr. Marchdale mopes at hand----"

"You mean they seek you----?"

"Most pertinaciously, sir, but quite vainly by reason that I can climb."

"Climb?" repeated the Major, staring, "pray what?"

"A wall, sir."

"Wall?" he murmured.

"Two, sir. I had to run away. They're dear creatures, to be sure, but
the Marquis persists in recounting pedigrees of horses and dogs, Sir
Benjamin rhapsodises in metre and poor Mr. Marchdale, being very young,
is so egregiously in love with me that I climb and clamber over walls
and here I am. Pray aid me over this stile ere they find me."

The Major's aid was so energetic and prompt that Lady Betty was over
the stile and walking beside him, flushed and a little breathless all
in a moment.

"You are forgetting your fine cane, sir," said she in a small voice.

"Aye, to be sure!" And flushing, he picked it up rather hastily.

"And now prithee my bask