Mrs. Evans raised her hand in what might be accepted as a warning or a threatening gesture, and Wilfred, wondering at the old woman’s manner, betook himself to his daily duties.
‘A grumbling old creature,’ he soliloquised. ‘I don’t wonder that Dick is glad to get away from her tongue. She ought to be pleased that he should have a holiday occasionally.’
On the morning following Richard Evans’s departure, extra exertion was entailed upon Wilfred and Guy, as also upon Andrew Cargill, by reason of their having to divide the milking of his proportion of the cows among them. As Dick was a rapid and exhaustive operator, his absence was felt, if not regretted. As they returned from the troublesome task, a full hour later than usual, Wilfred consoled himself by the thought that the next day would find this indispensable personage at his post.
‘I wadna hae thocht,’ confessed Andrew, ‘that the auld, rough-tongued carle’s absence could hae made siccan a camstairy. But he’s awfu’ skeely wi’ thae wild mountain queys, and kens brawly hoo tae daiker them. It’s no said for naught that the children o’ the warld are wiser in their generation than the children o’ licht. He’ll be surely back the morn’s morn.’
Explaining Dick’s eminence in the milking-yard by this classification, and undoubtedly including himself in the latter category, Andrew betook himself to an outer apartment, where the scrupulous Jeanie had provided full means of ablution.
The next day passed without the appearance of the confidential retainer. Another, and yet another. In default of his aid, Wilfred exerted himself to the utmost and succeeded in getting through the ordinary work; yet a sense of incompleteness pervaded the establishment. Ready-witted, tireless, and perfect in all the minor attainments of Australian country life, Dick was a man to be missed in a hundred ways in an establishment like Warbrok Chase.
New cows had calved and required milking for the first time. One of them had shown unexpected ferocity; indeed, knocking over Andrew, and disabling his right arm.
‘The old fellow may have had an accident,’ suggested Mr. Effingham; ‘I suppose such things occur on these wild roads; or he _may_ have indulged in an extra glass or two.’