"Thank you; but that is not likely. I think it is not raining so hard
now, and that I can go."
"It is simply pouring still," he said, earnestly and emphatically. "You
would get drenched if you ventured out."
"But I can't stay here all day," she remarked, with a laugh. "I have a
great deal to do: I have to see that the sheep have not strayed, and
that the cows are in the meadows; the fences are bad in places, and the
stupid creatures are always straying. It is wonderful how quickly a cow
finds a weak place in a fence."
Stafford's face grew red, a brick-dust red.
"It's not fit work for you," he said. "You--you are only a girl; you
can't be strong enough to face such weather, to do such work."
The beautiful eyes grew wide and gazed at him with girlish amusement,
and something of indignation.
"I'm older than you think. I'm not a girl!" she retorted. "And I am as
strong as a horse." She drew herself up and threw her head back. "I am
never tired--or scarcely ever. One day I rode to Keswick and back, and
when I got home Jason met me at the gate and told me that the steers
had 'broken' and had got on the Bryndermere road.
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