"My sisters are very nice, considering that they are twins," said Betty, who was always careful not to overpraise her own people; "and they are just as fond of dogs as I am. Oh, by the way, we have a lovely spider--a huge, glorious creature. His name is Dickie, and he lives in an attic at the Court. He's as big as this." Betty made an apt illustration with her fingers. "Lor', miss, he must be an awful beast! We're dead nuts agen spiders at the Stoke Farm." Betty looked sad. "It is strange," she said, "how no one loves Dickie except our three selves. We won't bring him, then; but may _we_ come?" "It all depends, miss, on whether Mrs. Haddo gives you leave. 'Tain't the custom, sure and certain, for young ladies from the Court to come a-visiting at Stoke Farm; but if so be she says yes, you'll be heartily welcome, and more than welcome. I can't say more, can I, miss?" "Well, I have had a happy time," said Betty; "and now I must be going back." "But," said the farmer, "missie, you surely ain't going to get over that big fence the same way as you come here?" "And what else should I do?" said Betty. "'Taint to be done, miss. There's a drop at our side which makes the fence ever so much higher, and how you didn't hurt yourself is little less than a miracle to me. I'll have the horse put to the cart and drive you round to the front entrance in a jiffy. Dan and Beersheba can follow, the run'll do them no end of good." "Yes, missie, you really must let my husband do what he wishes," said Mrs. Miles. "Thank you," said Betty in a quiet voice. Then she added, looking up into Mrs. Miles's face, "I love Mrs. Haddo very much, and there is one girl at the school whom I love. I think I shall love you too, for I think you have understanding. And when I come to see you next--for of course Mrs. Haddo will give me leave--I will tell you about Scotland, and the heather, and the fairies that live in the heather-bells; and I will tell you about our little gray stone house, and about Donald Macfarlane and Jean Macfarlane. Oh, you will love to hear! You are something like them, except that unfortunately you are English." "Don't put that agen me," said Mrs. Miles, "for I wouldn't be nothing else if you was to pay me fifty pounds down. There, now, I can't speak squarer than that!" Just at that moment the farmer's voice was heard announcing that the trap was ready. Betty hugged Mrs. Miles, and was followed out of the farm-kitchen by the excited dogs. The next minute they were driving in the direction of the Court, and Betty was put down just outside the heavy wrought-iron gates. "Good-bye, Farmer Miles," she said, "and take my best thanks. I am coming again to see those darling dogs. Good-bye, dears, good-bye."