Mysterious of eye, leisured, vividly red and white, they followed the
old man as queens might follow an usher.

Hazel was coming down the path from the house. With morning, her
abundant vitality had returned. The outer world was new and bright, and
she wanted, shyly, to be up and dressed before Reddin awoke.

She was full of merriment at the subservience of Vessons to the cows.

'D'you say "mum" to 'em?' she inquired.

Vessons looked her up and down. He was very angry, not only at her
criticism, but at the difficulty of retort, since he supposed she was
now 'missus.' His friendliness for her had entirely gone, not, as would
have seemed natural, since her last night's instalment at Undern, but
since her marriage with Edward. He felt that she had 'gone back on
him.' He had taken her as a comrade, and now she had gone over to the
enemy. He was also injured at having been kept up so late last night.

He chumbled his straw for some time, until the last cow had
disappeared. Then he said: 'You'm up early for a married 'ooman, or
whatever you be, missus.'

Hazel laughed. She had lived so completely outside the influence of the
canons of society that the taunt had no sting.

'Ha! you're jealous!' she said.

Then, with a mercilessly accurate imitation of his voice and face, she