Betty Vivian Part 30

"I won't, all the same," said Harris.

The walk continued without any more exciting occurrences; and when the girls reached the farm they were greeted by Mrs. Miles, her two big boys, and the farmer himself. Here Harris dropped a curtsy and disappeared.

"Oh, I must kiss you, Mrs. Miles!" said Betty. "And, please, this is my sister Sylvia, and this is Hester. They are twins; but, having two sets yourself, you said you did not mind seeing them and giving them tea, even though they are twins."

"'Tain't no disgrace, missie, as I've heerd tell on," said the farmer.

"Oh Farmer Miles, I am glad to see you!" said Betty. "Fancy dear, kind Mrs. Haddo giving us leave to come and have tea with you!--I do hope, Mrs. Miles, you've got a very nice tea, for I can tell you I am hungry.

I've given myself an appet.i.te on purpose; for I would hardly touch any breakfast, and at dinner I took the very teeniest bit."

"And so did I," said Sylvia in a low tone.

"And I also," remarked Hester.

"Well, missies, I ha' got the best tea I could think of, and right glad we are to see you. You haven't spoken to poor Ben yet, missie."

Here Mrs. Miles indicated her eldest son, an uncouth-looking lad of about twelve years of age.

"Nor Sammy neither," said the farmer, laying his hand on Sammy's broad shoulder, and bringing the red-haired and freckled boy forward.

"I am just delighted to see you, Ben; and to see you, Sammy. And these are my sisters. And, please, Mrs. Miles, where are the twins?"

"The twinses are upstairs, sound asleep; but they'll be down by tea-time," said Mrs. Miles.

"And, above all things, where are the dogs?" said Betty.

"Now, missie," said the farmer, "them dogs has been very rampageous lately, and, try as we would, we couldn't tame 'em; so we have 'em fastened up in their kennels, and only lets 'em out at night. You shall come and see 'em in their kennels, missie."

"Oh, but they must be let out!" said Betty, tears br.i.m.m.i.n.g to her eyes.

"My sisters love dogs just as much as I do. They must see the dogs. Oh, we must have a game with them!"

"I wouldn't take it upon me, I wouldn't really," said the farmer, "to let them dogs free to-day. They're that remarkable rampageous."

"Well, take me to them anyhow," said Betty.

The farmer, his wife, Ben and Sammy, and the three Vivian girls tramped across the yard, and presently arrived opposite the kennels where Dan and Beersheba were straining at the end of their chains. When they heard footsteps they began to bark vociferously, but the moment they saw Betty their barking ceased; they whined and strained harder than ever in their wild rapture. Betty instantly flung herself on her knees by Dan's side and kissed him on the forehead. The dog licked her little hand, and was almost beside himself with delight. As to poor Beersheba, he very nearly went mad with jealousy over the attention paid to Dan.

"You see for yourself," said Betty, looking into the farmer's face, "the dogs will be all right with me. You must let them loose while I am here."

"It do seem quite wonderful," said the farmer. "Now, don't it, wife?"

"A'most uncanny, I call it," said Mrs. Miles.

"But before you let them loose I must introduce my sisters to them,"

said Betty. "Sylvia, come here. Sylvia, kneel by me."

The girl did so. The dogs were not quite so much excited over Sylvia as they were over Betty, but they also licked their hands and wagged their tails in great delight. Hester went through the same form of introduction; and then, somewhat against his will, the farmer gave the dogs their liberty. Betty said, in a commanding tone, "To heel, good boys, at once!" and the wild and savage dogs obeyed her.

She paced up and down the yard in a state of rapture at her conquest over these fierce animals. Then she whispered something to Sylvia, who in her turn whispered to Mrs. Miles, who in her turn whispered to Ben; the result of which was that three wicker chairs were brought from the house, Betty and her sisters seated themselves, and the dogs sprawled in ecstasy at their side.

"Oh, we are happy!" said Betty. "Mrs. Miles, was your heart ever very starvingly empty?"

"Times, maybe," said Mrs. Miles, who had gone, like most of her s.e.x, through a chequered career.

"And weren't you glad when it got filled up to the brim again?"

"That I was," said Mrs. Miles.

"My heart was a bit starved this morning," said Betty; "but it feels full to the brim now. Please, dear, good Mrs. Miles, leave us five alone together. Go all of you away, and let us stay alone together."

"Meanin' by that you three ladies and them dogs?"

"Yes, that is what I mean."

The farmer bent and whispered something to his wife, the result of which was that a minute later Betty and her sisters were alone with the animals. They did not know, however, that the farmer had hidden himself in the big barn ready to spring out should "them fierce uns," as he termed the animals, become refractory. Then began an extraordinary scene. Betty whispered in the dogs' ears, and they grovelled at her feet. Then she sang a low song to them; and they stood upright, quivering with rapture. The two girls kept behind Betty, who was evidently the first in the hearts of these extraordinary dogs.

"I could teach them no end of tricks. They could be almost as lively and delightful as Andrew and Fritz," said Betty, turning to her sisters.

"Oh yes," they replied. Then Sylvia burst out crying.

"Silly Sylvia! What is the matter?" said Betty.

"It's only that I didn't know my heart was hungry until--until this very minute," said Sylvia. "Oh, it is awful to live in a house without dogs!"

"I have felt that all along," said Betty. "But I suppose, after a fashion, we've got to endure. Oh do stop crying, Sylvia! Let's make the most of a happy time."

The culmination of that happy time was when Mrs. Miles appeared on the scene, accompanied by four little children--two very pretty little girls, dressed in white, their short sleeves tied up with blue ribbons for the occasion; and two little boys a year or two older.

"These be the twinses," said Mrs. Miles. "These two be Moses and Ephraim, and these two be Deborah and Anna. The elder of the twinses are Moses and Ephraim, and the younger Deborah and Anna. Now, then children, you jest drop your curtsies to the young ladies, and say you are glad to see them."

"But, indeed, they shall do nothing of the kind," said Betty. "Oh, aren't they the sweetest darlings! Deborah, I must kiss you. Anna, put your sweet little arms round my neck."

The children were in wild delight, for all children took immediately to Betty. But, lo and behold! one of the dogs gave an ominous growl. Was not his idol devoting herself to some one else? In one instant the brute might have sprung upon poor little Deborah had not Betty turned and laid her hand on his forehead. Instantly he gave a sound between a groan and a moan, and crouched at her feet.

"There! I never!" said Mrs. Miles. "You be a reg'lar out-and-out lion-tamer, miss."

"I'm getting more and more hungry every minute," said Betty. "Will--will tea be ready soon, Mrs. Miles?"

"I was coming out to fetch you in, my loves."

The whole party then migrated to the kitchen, which was ornamented especially for the occasion. The long center-table was covered with a snowy cloth, and on it were spread all sorts of appetizing viands--great slabs of honey in the comb, cakes of every description, hot griddle-cakes, scones, m.u.f.fins, cold chicken, cold ham, and the most delicious jams of every variety. Added to these good things was a great bowl full of Devonshire cream, which Mrs. Miles had made herself from a well-known Devonshire recipe that morning.

"Oh, but doesn't this look good!" said Betty. She sat down with a twin girl at each side of her, and with a dog resting his head on the lap of each of the twins, and their beseeching eyes fixed on Betty's face.

"I ha' got a treat for 'em afterwards, missie," said Mrs. Miles; "two strong beef-bones. They shall eat 'em, and they'll never forget you arter that."

Betty became so lively now that at a whispered word from Sylvia she began to tell stories--by no means the sort of stories she had told at the Specialities' entertainment, but funny tales, sparkling with wit and humor--tales quite within the comprehension of her intelligent but unlearned audience. Even the farmer roared with laughter, and said over and over to his wife, as he wiped the tears of enjoyment from his eyes, "Well, that do cap all!"