"Ella dressed herself in her Sunday clothes, and carried the basket,
which her grandmother had packed, down the hill. Monique had filled the
basket with everything she thought might be useful--a bottle of cream,
new-laid eggs, and fresh flowers. She bade Margot and Meeta be good
girls, and keep close at home, when she parted from them, with a kiss
to each; and the next minute she and Ella were going down the hill."
* * * * *
"I know what is coming next," cried Henry, as Emily turned over a leaf;
"but do make haste, Emily."
* * * * *
"Nothing could be more still and quiet than the cottage and all about
it seemed to be when Meeta and Margot were left in it; for nothing was
heard, when the children were not talking, but the rushing of the
waterfall, the humming of the bees, and the bleating of the distant
flocks, and now and then the barking of a sheep-dog.
"Every cottager on those hills keeps a dog. Wolf was the name of Martin
Stolberg's dog: Wolf was of the true shepherd's breed, and a most
careful watch he kept both day and night; but he had gone that morning
with Jacques to the Alps above the waterfall.
"Monique had told the two girls that they might have peas for dinner,
so it was their first business to gather these peas, and bring them
into the house. Margot then sat down to shell them, but she did not sit
within the house, because of the litter she always made when she
shelled peas; so she sat on a little plot of grass under a tall tree,
on one side of the straight path which led from the garden-gate to the
house-door. Meeta remained within, being busy in setting the kitchen in
order before she sat down to her sewing; and thus they were both
engaged, when Margot saw two people come up to the wicket. Margot was
very shy, as children are who do not see many strangers, and without
waiting to look again at these persons, she jumped up and hid herself
behind the large trunk of a tree, peeping at the people who were
walking on to the house. The first was a very tall large woman: she
wore a petticoat, all patched with various colours, which hardly came
down to her ankles; she had long black and gray hair, which hung loose
over her shoulders; a man's hat, and a cloak thrown back from the
front, and hanging in jags and tatters behind. She came up the path
with long steps like a man's, and was followed by a young man, perhaps
her son, who seemed, by his ragged dirty dress, to be fit to bear her
company.
"Meeta did not see these people till the large form of the woman
darkened the gateway. She was placing some cups on the shelf, and had
her back to the door; when she turned, she not only saw the woman, but
the man peeping over her shoulder, and though she was frightened she
tried not to appear to be so.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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