At this juncture light steps were heard pattering over the cobble-stones, and Maggie Fry, from the village in the “dip,” came up, jug in hand, to fetch the milk for her father’s breakfast. “What do you think?” shouted Annie, raising herself a little from her seat in order to judge of the effect which her announcement would produce upon Maggie, who was a crony of hers. “What do you think, Maggie? Here’s Olfred Boyt come into a fortun’. He’ve a-been an’ won the thousand pound prize in one of them Dutch bank drawin’s--he is a rich man this mornin’!” “He is,” chimed in her mother, with a crow of laughter. “I am just tellin’ him he’ll have to look out for a wife first thing. Mr. Farmer Boyt must have a missus to look after the grand noo property he be a-goin’ to buy.” “Ah, sure he will,” cried the farmer. Olf swung himself round the post once more, and then slowly regaining his former place, gazed thoughtfully at Annie, whose fair, curly head was delicately outlined against the golden-red flank of her cow. “I’d as soon have you as any one, Annie,” he remarked hesitatingly. “Me!” cried Annie, jumping up and knocking over her stool. “Of all the impudence! Me, Olf? Your master’s daughter?” Her pretty face was flushed to the temples, her eyes were flashing fire. Her mother and father burst into loud laughter, in which Maggie joined. “I d’ ’low he isn’t very slack once he do make up his mind,” cried the farmer, wiping his eyes. “’Tis a bit strong, I will say, ’tis a bit strong, Olf.” “I’ll be a master myself now,” explained Olf, looking from one to the other, “an’ I’d as soon have Annie as any one,” he added with conviction. “Well, I’d a deal sooner not have you,” ejaculated Annie, picking up her stool, and sitting down again with a suddenness that betokened great perturbation of mind. “I think ’tis most awful cheeky of you, Olf, to ask me, an’ I don’t see as it is any laughing matter.” Thereupon she fell to work again, the milk falling into her pail in a jerky manner, which, while relieving her own feeling, was not altogether satisfactory to her meek charge, whose horned head came peering round as though to ascertain the cause of this unusual disturbance. Olf, after contemplating for a moment the resolute outline of the back presented to him so decidedly, slowly turned his gaze upon Maggie, who still stood by, laughing and dangling her jug. “Will you have me, Maggie?” he inquired pleasantly. “Dear heart alive!” ejaculated the farmer, while his wife once more gave utterance to a shout of laughter. It was now Maggie’s turn to flush and look disconcerted. “I’m not goin’ to put up wi’ Annie’s leavings,” she cried indignantly. “The idea! I s’pose you reckon any maid is to be picked up for the axin’, Olfred Boyt. You think you have nothin’ more to do nor just p’int your finger at the first one you fancy an’ she’ll have you straight off. A pretty notion!”