It is a matter of eye and handling, that's all. He nearly got me
with that plaster thing, so I went for him and boxed his ears till he
was dazed. Then I kissed him afterwards till he laughed, and he'll never
be any more trouble, at least with me. That mother of his don't know how
to handle him. She's another breed."
"Yes," said the questioner, "the mistress is a lady, she is, and gentle
like the squire who's gone. But how did they get such a one as Master
Anthony?"
"Don't know," replied Bess, "but father says that when he was a boy
in the Fens they'd have told that the fairy folk changed him at birth.
Anyway, I like him well enough, for he suits me."
Barbara went back to her sitting-room, where not long afterwards the boy
came to her. As he entered the doorway she noted how handsome he looked
with his massive head and square-jawed face, and how utterly unlike any
Arnott or Walrond known to her personally or by tradition. Had he been
a changeling, such as the girl Bess spoke of, he could not have seemed
more different.
He came and stood before her, his hands in his pockets and a smile upon
his face, for he could smile very pleasantly when he chose.
"Well, Anthony," she said, "what is it?"
"Nothing, mother dear, except that I have come to beg your pardon.
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