"Well, the old ones are easier to manage," she said. She led the way
downstairs and left Anne on the doorstep of the big front door. The
porter shut it with a clang.

The pony was pawing the gravel outside the gate and pulling hard with
his head. He backed the cart vigorously into the road as Anne untied his
head, and set off at a good pace towards the town.

"I'll go up to-morrow and see Mrs Hankworth," said Anne. "She'll perhaps
be able to say something to help."




CHAPTER XV


Mrs Hankworth lived at one of the largest farms in the country, some
three miles away from Anne Hilton's cottage. The farmstead was, contrary
to the usual custom, not placed near the high road for convenience, but
on an eminence in the midst of its own lands. A road had been cut to it
between cornfields, so that in the time of springing corn a man walking
on this road seemed to be wading to the knees in a green undulating sea,
which had risen and submerged the hill. The farm itself was large, with
a garden unusually well kept, a sign that the mistress counted in the
establishment. Old rose trees grew almost to the roof of the wide
building, and the thick turf bore token to the richness of the soil.

Inside, the passage, the stairs, the rooms, were all spacious, and, in