Small dishes of preserved pears were passed around, also pallid tartlets, containing some custard mixture. Delight was given a cup of hot water coloured with skimmed milk.
"We do not drink tea here," said Mrs. Heaslip. "It is bad for the nerves. Perkin does not know the taste of tea. Do you, Perkin?"
"No, Ma," replied Perkin, in a thin, high-pitched voice.
Mr. Heaslip said:
"I suppose you saw lots of strong drink at The Duke of York. Mr. Fergussen told me you have been working there. If I had my way I'd pour the stuff into the gutters. I never spend a cent in a hotel. I put my horse in the stable of The British American when I go into Brancepeth and I eat my lunch which my wife prepares for me in their parlour but I never spend a cent in the evil place."
"Had you ever heard tell of me in Brancepeth?" inquired Delight anxiously.
"Never a word till the fishman set you down here this morning. I had told him to be on the lookout for a likely young girl. I asked no questions except as to your character and he said that was good. . . . Well, Ma, I guess I'll go back to my work. Perkin can show her all about the berries."
He returned to his Bible with a smile at his wife.
It was glorious to be out of doors walking beside Perkin towards the barn to get baskets, to feel the soft breeze and smell the delicious country smells after the stuffiness of that dim house, the stagnation of that whispering atmosphere. After the full-blooded people of the hotel
