"Sailing from Falmouth with a friend in a little boat....

Any news of Lizzie yet, Mrs.
Pascoe ?" Her long-tailed ponies stood twitching their ears on the road twenty yards away.

The boy, Curnow, flicked flies off them occasionally.

He saw his mistress go into the cottage; come out again; and pass, talking energetically to judge by the movements of her hands, round the vegetable plot in front of the cottage.

Mrs.Pascoe was his aunt.