Part 18 (1/2)
”So you were actually brought up on a sheep farm!” said Lady Dromard, looking flatteringly at the graceful young girl.
”Yes--on a station. It was in the bush, and very much the bush,” laughed Tiny, ”for we were hundreds of miles up country. But most of the trees were no higher than this tent, Lady Dromard. The homestead was in a clump of pines, and they were pretty tall, but the rest were mere scrub.”
”Then how in the world,” cried her ladys.h.i.+p, ”did you manage to become educated? What school could you go to in a place like that?”
”We never went to school at all,” Tiny informed her confidentially. ”We had a governess.”
”Ah, and she taught you to sing! I should like to meet that governess.
She must be a very clever person.”
Her ladys.h.i.+p's manner was delightfully blunt.
”Now, Lady Dromard, you're laughing at me! I know nothing--I have read nothing.”
”I rejoice to hear it!” cried the countess cordially. ”I a.s.sure you, Miss Luttrell, that's a most refres.h.i.+ng confession in these days. Only it's too good to be true. I don't believe you, you know.”
Christina made no great effort to establish the truth of her statement; for some minutes longer they watched the game.
But the countess was not interested, though her younger son had gone in, and had already begun to score. ”What were they?” she said at length with extreme obscurity; but Christina was polite enough not to ask her what she meant until she had put this question to herself, and while she still hesitated Lady Dromard recollected herself, appreciated the hesitation, and explained. ”I mean the trees in the bush, at your farm.
Were they gum trees?”
”Very few of them--there are hardly any gum trees up there.”
”Do you know that _I_ have a young gum tree?” said Lady Dromard amusingly, as though it were a young opossum.
”No!” said Tiny incredulously.
”But I have, in the conservatory; you might have seen it the other evening.”
”How I wish I had!”
The young girl's face wore a flush of genuine animation. Lady Dromard regarded it for a moment, and admired it very much; then she bent forward and touched Ruth on the arm.
”Mrs. Holland, will you trust your sister to me for half an hour? I want to show her something that will interest her more than the cricket.”
”Oh, Lady Dromard, I can't think of taking you away from the match,”
cried Christina, while Ruth's eyes danced, and the bonnets in front turned round.
”My dear Miss Luttrell, it will interest _me_ more, now that Lord Manister is out.”
”But there's Mr. Dromard.”
”Oh, that boy! He has made more runs this week than are good for him.
Miss Luttrell, am I to go alone?”
The bonnets in front knocked together.
CHAPTER XII.