Here she stopped a while, and sat her down, and
looked out over the promise of fine hay. The undulating green expanse was
studded with the black knobs of ribwort plantain and gemmed with
buttercups, which here were dotted like sparks of fire, here massed in
broad bunches and splashes of color. The wind swept over the field, and its
course was marked by sudden flecks and ripples of transient sheeny light,
paler and brighter than the mass of the herbage. Then a figure appeared
afar off, following the course of the footpath where it wound through the
gold of the flowers and the silver of the bending grasses. It approached,
resolved itself into a fisher-boy and presently proved to be Tom Tregenza.
Joan ran forward to meet him as soon as the short figure, with its
exaggerated nautical roll, became known to her. She kissed her half-brother
warmly, and he hugged her and showed great delight at the meeting, for he
loved Joan well.
"I've stealed away, 'cause I was just burstin' to get sight of 'e again,
Joan. Faither's home an' I comed off for a walk, creepin' round here an'
hopin' as we'd meet. 'Tis mighty wisht to home now you'm gone, I can tell
'e. I've got a sore head yet along o' you."
"G'wan, bwoy! Why should 'e?"
"Iss so. 'Twas like this. When us comed back from sea wan mornin' a week
arter you'd gone I ups an' sez, ''Tis 'bout as lively as bad feesh ashore
now Joan ban't here.
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