"But are you sure?
The young lady I saw was not dressed, well--like a squire's daughter, and she was looking after some sheep like--like a farmer's girl." The landlord nodded again.
"That was Miss Ida, right enough, sir," he said, with a touch of respect, and something like pride in his tone.

"Indeed, it couldn't be anyone else.

No doubt Miss Ida had come down to look after the sheep in the valley; and there's no farmer's daughter in the vale that could do it better, or half so well, as she.

There isn't a girl in the county, or, for that matter, a man, either, who can ride like Miss Ida, or knows more about the points of a horse or a dog--yes, and you may say a cow--than the squire's daughter.

And as to her being poorly dressed--well, there's a reason for that, sir.