ch, though with an English accent.

"No," she answered, winking back the water which had come into her
eyes with the force of the blow, and she turned her back on him so
that he should not see her do it.

"My good women," she said shortly to the peasants who, with upraised
hands and many gestures, stared at her, "there is nothing the matter,
there is no reason why you should stand there and look at me; I assure
you no one has been hurt, and no one is going to be; you had much
better go on your way, as I shall do. Good-afternoon."

She walked a few paces down the road, not in the direction she
intended to go certainly, but she was too shaken for the moment to
notice which way she took, and was only actuated by a desire to get
away and put an end to a scene. The movement and the words were not
without effect; the two women, a good deal astonished, obeyed
automatically, and, picking up the burdens they had set down, trudged
on their way, not realising for some time how much offended they were
at the curt behaviour of the "mad English." The children by this time
had ceased staring and returned to their play; the waggoner, muttering
some surly words, drove on. Julia sat on the bank by the roadside, and
tried to brush the dust from her dress. The Englishman, after making
some parting remarks to the waggoner, this time in Dutch, though still
in the quiet, drawling voice which was much at variance with the
language, had gone to pick up the basket. She wished she had thanked
him for his timely assistance when she first scrambled to her feet,
and gone on at once, then she could have done this necessary sitting
down when he was out of sight, and come back for the stupid basket
when she remembered it. But now she would have to thank him formally,
and perhaps explain things, and say expressly that she was not hurt,
and this while she was shaken and dusty. Mercifully he was English,
and so would not expect much; she looked at his back with
satisfaction. He was scarcely as tall as many Hollanders, but very
differently built. To Julia, looking at him rather stupidly, his
proportions, like his clothes, appeared very nearly perfect after
those she had been used to seeing lately. When he turned and she saw
for the first time his face, she was not very much surprised, though
really it was surprising that Rawson-Clew should still be hereabouts.

Their eyes met in mutual recognition. Afterwards she wondered why she
did not pretend to be