“I suppose not,” replied Anne, wearily.  “Nobody seems to get any nearer not judging their neighbours after all this time.”

“Well, you can’t make the world over again, however you try,” said Mrs Crowther.  “You’ve to take things as you find ’em, and make the best of ’em.  It’s hard enough for them that’s kept straight without petting them that’s weak and foolish enough to go wrong.  You’ll never be able to alter it, Miss Hilton, so you better take it so.”

“I can’t do anything more at present,” said Anne; “but I must be getting home again.  The pony’ll be wondering what’s become of me.  I’m very much obliged to you for the rest, Mrs Crowther.  You don’t think it’s raining now, do you?”

“No!  I don’t think so!” said Mrs Crowther.  “How’s Mary, Miss Hilton?  She’ll have been sadly hindered with all this rain.  They put off two cricket-matches this week.  They’re not playing football yet, or else the weather wouldn’t matter so much.  They say the wet weather keeps their joints supple.  It’s the dry weather and frost that’s so hard to play in.  Ted’s always one for a lot of sport, specially football.  Such a mess as he comes home sometimes.  ‘You must clean your own clothes,’ I always says to him.  We have a joke at him, that when he wins one of these competitions (he’s always one for going in for these guessing competitions that promises such a lot of money if you put in an odd word somewhere).  He’s always bound to win every time he goes in, and we tell him that when he wins it, he can keep a servant to clean his trousers after every football match.  ’I shan’t let any of you have any of it you don’t take care,’ he says; ’I’ll be laughing at you before long, see if I’m not.  Wait till you all come asking for rides on my motor-bike; what’ll you say then?’ he says.  ‘Eh!’ says his father, ’I shall say there’s more fools in the world than one!’ Well Miss Hilton, good morning; I’m very glad to see you any time.  I’m alone a good lot now, you know.  It’s not like it was once with children all round the kitchen.  I’m glad of a bit of company now sometimes.  Why, it’s beautiful now!” she concluded, opening the door and stepping out in front of Anne, looking round the sky with eyes which blinked a little under the strong light.

CHAPTER XI

Next day at daybreak the country was whitened by a light mist.  The birds sang incessantly with long ecstatic calling from throats which had drunk the air of the dawn and retained something of its quality.  Coolness refreshed the day and strengthened the eyes, and one’s ears were opened to hear from every side the chorus which in a more varied landscape one took as a part of the glittering moving world outside the house.

Anne unbolted the house-door.  The dog rose from the hearth and stretched itself slowly, yawning and shutting its mouth with a snap.  Then it walked to the door, waiting until it was dragged open grating on the sand of the floor.  The cool morning air came in like a visitor.  The old dog pushed against Anne as she stepped outside, sneezed, yawned again, and lay down in the sunshine to finish his nap.