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or she would have come long before to help her strain and pour off.
'It didn’t matter,’ said Una; 'I just waited. Is that old Pansy barging about the lower pasture now?’
’No,’ said Mrs. Vincey, listening. 'It sounds more like a horse being galloped middlin’ quick through the woods; but there's no road there now. I reckon it’s one of Gleason’s colts loose. Shall I see you up to the house, Miss Una?’
'Gracious no! thank you. What’s going to hurt me?’ said Una, and she put her stool away behind the oak, and strolled home through the gaps that old Hobden kept open for her.
