“Now then!” came unexpectedly from Bert; there was a terse so-far-but-no-further tone in it. The young man seemed to grope for something, then said: “Eh?”
Flo slipped out.
“Ma’ll toe your backside and out you’ll go if you try that here,” Flo heard Bert saying. Nevertheless, she was afraid. She held back till Mrs. Nadin asked exasperatedly whether she thought that they wanted to be at it all night.
“Let the child be,” said Mr. Nadin quietly.
“I’ll let thee be if tha dunna shut up,” she threatened, transferring her anger. “Get thi great gob stuffed wi’ that,” and she planked the first loaded plate of hot-pot by his side on the oven top. Flo, grateful, held out a knife and fork. He took them, got up leisurely and tugged his chair to the table. Flo, with the loaded tray, went nervously along the passage, though determined to fight. But the steaming plates with their meaty smell turned the thoughts of everybody except Dot to feeding.
“Th’ biggest for me,” said Bert jokingly.
She selected it quickly and put it close to him. It was half-past eleven before the last of the things was washed. Then Mrs. Nadin at once ordered Flo to bed, adding: “There’s another day to-morrow, dunna forget.”
Sunday was perfectly still and very mild; spring pensive, thinking of summer. All the fishermen went out just before dawn; Flo heard their talk going away to the water, and then the wooden rattle of oars tumbled into empty boats, and the creak and splashing dip of rowing. The sounds passed beyond hearing and the valley silence was complete again, but Flo lay and thought apprehensively of the young man. If he tried any more tricks she would be ready, though.
The great bell rang startlingly precisely at its usual time. When Flo got down Mrs. Nadin had already been to the cabin, and she asked sharply why it had not been tidied more.
“Miss Dorothy was there; and she never said go back,” Flo explained.
“We’ll have her up, the young madam,” said Mrs. Nadin sharply. “Go tell her.”
The bedroom door was locked. Flo knocked and called, but all she got was an impatient: “All right; all right.”
On Flo’s report Mrs. Nadin stumped up and filled the house with thumpings. “Come on,” she shouted. “Out o’ that. Open this door.” But it was not till twenty-five minutes later that Dot came down.
All day there was the making and delivery of meals; the collection and washing of pots. Mr. Nadin made his usual demand for Flo’s help for milking.
“You great crackpot, you,” retorted his wife, “tek yon boots off an’ milk next cow wi’ your feet; you’re clever enough ta do two at a time ta hear you talk.”
The farmer kept out of the house except for short mealtimes. Flo saw him going about the yard, watering the cattle and horses, carrying hay or buckets. Bert seemed to spend all his time at the lake; Clem disappeared after breakfast and did not come back till after tea to help with the evening milk. Dot was moody all day. In the afternoon many teas were served to casuals who had apparently strolled from Moss. Flo, so new to the work, was interested in everybody. There were several visitors whom she liked the look of; whenever there were any of this kind Dot seemed particularly annoying. Two young men with fair hair and fresh cheeks came in. Flo brought the tray, only to have it snatched away just inside the door.
“You’ve come without the cream jug, you great booby,” shouted Dot across the hut. Both young men looked up, and Flo imagined that she saw smiles forming. She felt humiliated and vindictive.