It's fair lovely in spring an' summer when th' gorse an' broom an' heather's in flower.

It smells o' honey an' there's such a lot o' fresh air--an' th' sky looks so high an' th' bees an' skylarks makes such a nice noise hummin' an' singin'.

Eh! I wouldn't live away from th' moor for anythin'." Mary listened to her with a grave, puzzled expression.

The native servants she had been used to in India were not in the least like this.
They were obsequious and servile and did not presume to talk to their masters as if they were their equals.

They made salaams and called them "protector of the poor" and names of that sort.