Her tone
was apologetic. She had got the notion into her head that I had been
calling her for quite a long time. I explained that this was not the
case.
"How funny!" she answered. "I said to Veronica more than an hour
ago: 'I'm sure that's Pa calling us.' I suppose I must have been
dreaming."
"Well, don't dream any more," I suggested. "Come down and see to
this confounded cow of yours."
"Oh," said Veronica, "has it come?"
"It has come," I told her. "As a matter of fact, it has been here
some time. It ought to have been milked four hours ago, according to
its own idea."
Robina said she would be down in a minute.
She was down in twenty-five, which was sooner than I had expected.
She brought Veronica with her. She said she would have been down
sooner if she had not waited for Veronica. It appeared that this was
just precisely what Veronica had been telling her. I was feeling
irritable. I had been up half a day, and hadn't had my breakfast.
"Don't stand there arguing," I told them. "For goodness' sake let's
get to work and milk this cow. We shall have the poor creature dying
on our hands if we're not careful."
Robina was wandering round the room.
"You haven't come across a milking-stool anywhere, have you, Pa?"
asked Robina.
"I have come across your milking-stool, I estimate, some thirteen
times," I told her. I fetched it from where I had left it, and gave
it to her; and we filed out in procession; Veronica with a galvanised
iron bucket bringing up the rear.
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