Sylvia's Lovers

'That's a handsome beast yo've just been milking, master.' 'Ay; but handsome is as handsome does. It were only yesterday as she

aimed her leg right at t' pail wi' t' afterings in. She knowed it

were afterings as well as any Christian, and t' more t' mischief t'

better she likes it; an' if a hadn't been too quick for her, it

would have a' gone swash down i' t' litter. This'n 's a far better

cow i' t' long run, she's just a steady goer,' as the milky

down-pour came musical and even from the stall next to Black Nell's.

Sylvia was knitting away vigorously, thinking all the while that it

was a great pity she had not put on a better gown, or even a cap

with brighter ribbon, and quite unconscious how very pretty she

looked standing against the faint light, her head a little bent

down; her hair catching bright golden touches, as it fell from under

her little linen cap; her pink bed-gown, confined by her

apron-string, giving a sort of easy grace to her figure; her dark

full linsey petticoat short above her trim ancles, looking far more

suitable to the place where she was standing than her long gown of

the night before would have done. Kinraid was wanting to talk to

her, and to make her talk, but was uncertain how to begin. In the

meantime Kester went on with the subject last spoken about.

'Black Nell's at her fourth calf now, so she ought to ha' left off

her tricks and turned sober-like. But bless yo', there's some cows

as 'll be skittish till they're fat for t' butcher. Not but what a

like milking her better nor a steady goer; a man has allays summat

to be watchin' for; and a'm kind o' set up when a've mastered her at

last. T' young missus theere, she's mighty fond o' comin' t' see

Black Nell at her tantrums. She'd niver come near me if a' cows were

like this'n.' 'Do you often come and see the cows milked?' asked Kinraid, 'Many a time,' said Sylvia, smiling a little. 'Why, when we're

throng, I help Kester; but now we've only Black Nell and Daisy

giving milk. Kester knows as I can milk Black Nell quite easy,' she

continued, half vexed that Kester had not named this accomplishment.

'Ay! when she's in a good frame o' mind, as she is sometimes. But t'

difficulty is to milk her at all times.' 'I wish I'd come a bit sooner. I should like t' have seen you milk

Black Nell,' addressing Sylvia.

'Yo'd better come to-morrow e'en, and see what a hand she'll mak' on

her,' said Kester.

'To-morrow night I shall be far on my road back to Shields.' 'To-morrow!' said Sylvia, suddenly looking up at him, and then

dropping her eyes, as she found he had been watching for the effect

of his intelligence on her.