If I could have gone to the Creamery at Araglin without their knowing that I was Bawn Devereux, the young lady at the big house, I would have enjoyed it, but that was not possible.
However, they soon forgot to be afraid of me, and laughed and chattered among themselves, very little deterred by my presence, except for giving me a shy glance now and again.

They were most polite and gentle with me, and would help me if they saw me lifting a heavy crock of milk, with a "By your leave, Miss Bawn," which was very pleasant.
I used to listen to their simple talk after they had forgotten their awe of me, and smile and sigh to myself.

It was often of lovers, and they rallied each other about this or that swain; and sometimes it was of their fortunes, which were being built up by tiny sums out of much poverty, so that their milk and roses, their bright eyes and satin heads might be gilt for their cold lovers.

But I never heard anything Lady St.
Leger would not wish me to hear; indeed, the talk those summer days was in keeping with the freshness and sweetness of the world about us.
One day that we were butter-making a party of visitors came in to see the Creamery, as sometimes happened.

I was washing the butter which lay before me in a pan of water, with the sleeves of my gown pinned above my elbow.
When the visitors paused to see what we were doing I did not look at them but went on with my work.