With the dropping of the sun a chilly shadow had fallen on the mound, and for some moments the sisters remained motionless, agonised, each in her own way distraught.
"The brute!" said Kezzy at length, drawing a long breath.
Hetty rose deliberately.

"Child," she said, and her voice was hard, "don't be a goose! The poor creature came for his money.

He had the right to insult us." She smoothed the dew from her skirt and walked swiftly down the slope.
At the foot of it Johnny Whitelamb had risen and was holding his drawing aslant, in some hope, perhaps, that the angle might correct the perspective of old Mettle's portrait.

Certainly it was a villainous portrait, as he acknowledged to himself with a sigh.
Parts of it must be rubbed out, and his right hand rummaged in his pocket and found a crust.

But Johnny, among other afflictions, suffered from an unconscionable appetite.