"
"I don't know--your father was very good, and I loved him because of it. He
was of the salt of the earth, as Mr. Blake wrote to me last year."
"There has never been anybody like papa," said Betty, her eyes filling.
"Not even Dan--for I can't imagine papa being anything but what he was--and
yet I know even if Dan were as wild as the Major once believed him to be, I
could have gone with him not the least bit afraid. I was so sure of myself
that if he had beaten me he could not have broken my spirit. I should
always have known that some day he would need me and be sorry."
Tender, pensive, bred in the ancient ways, Mrs. Ambler looked up at her and
shook her head.
"You are very strong, my child," she answered, "and I think it makes us all
lean too much upon you."
Taking her hand, Betty kissed each slender finger. "I lean on you for the
best in life, mamma," she answered, and then turned to the window. "It's
my working time," she said, "and there is poor Hosea trying to plough
without horses. I wonder how he'll manage it."
"Are all the horses gone, dear?"
"All except Prince Rupert and papa's mare. Peter keeps them hidden in the
mountains, and I carried them the last two apples yesterday. Prince Rupert
knew me in the distance and whinnied before Peter saw me. Now I'll send
Aunt Lydia to you, dearest, while I see about the weaving. Mammy Riah has
almost finished my linsey dress." She kissed her again and went out to
where the looms were working in one of the detached wings.
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