However, he was a healthy-minded young
man, not given to brooding and vain regrets.
"Are you ready to start, dear?" he said to his sister now. "Shall I order
the ponies?"
"I am ready. But have you finished your coffee?"
"Thanks, yes. We'll go off at once then, for I have a long morning's work,
and we had better get our ride over while it's cool."
He shouted to his "boy" to order the _syces_, or grooms, to bring the
ponies.
"Where are we going today, dear?" asked the girl, putting on her pith
helmet.
"To the nursery first. I want to see if the young plants have suffered much
from that hailstorm yesterday."
"Wasn't it awful? What would people in England say if they got hailstones
like that on their heads?"
"Chunerbutty and I measured one that I picked up outside the withering
shed," said the brother. "It was a solid lump of clear ice two inches long
and one and a half broad."
"I couldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen them," observed the girl. "I
wonder that everyone who is caught out in such a storm is not killed."
"Animals often are--and men, too, for that matter," replied Daleham.
Noreen tapped her smart little riding-boot with her whip.
"I'm glad we're going out to the nursery," she said. "It's my favourite
ride."
"I know it is, but I don't like taking you there, Sis," replied her
brother.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53