Barbara listened, smiling lazily. Granny was so amusing in her energy and precision, and her turns of speech, so deliberately homespun, as if she--than whom none could better use a stiff and polished phrase, or the refinements of the French language--were determined to take what liberties she liked. To the girl, haunted still by the feeling that she could fly, almost drunk on the sweetness of the air that summer morning, it seemed funny that anyone should be like that. Then for a second she saw her grandmother's face in repose, off guard, grim with anxious purpose, as if questioning its hold on life; and in one of those flashes of intuition which come to women--even when young and conquering like Barbara--she felt suddenly sorry, as though she had caught sight of the pale spectre never yet seen by her. "Poor old dear," she thought; "what a pity to be old!"But they had entered the footpath crossing three long meadows which climbed up towards Mrs. Noel's. It was so golden-sweet here amongst the million tiny saffron cups frosted with lingering dewshine; there was such flying glory in the limes and ash-trees; so delicate a scent from the late whins and may-flower; and, on every tree a greybird calling to be sorry was not possible!
In the far corner of the first field a chestnut mare was standing, with ears pricked at some distant sound whose charm she alone perceived. On viewing the intruders, she laid those ears back, and a little vicious star gleamed out at the corner of her eye. They passed her and entered the second field. Half way across, Barbara said quietly:
"Granny, that's a bull!"
It was indeed an enormous bull, who had been standing behind a clump of bushes. He was moving slowly towards them, still distant about two hundred yards; a great red beast, with the huge development of neck and front which makes the bull, of all living creatures, the symbol of brute force.
Lady Casterley envisaged him severely.
"I dislike bulls," she said; "I think I must walk backward.""You can't; it's too uphill."
"I am not going to turn back," said Lady Casterley. "The bull ought not to be here. Whose fault is it? I shall speak to someone. Stand still and look at him. We must prevent his coming nearer."They stood still and looked at the bull, who continued to approach.
"It doesn't stop him," said Lady Casterley. "We must take no notice.
Give me your arm, my dear; my legs feel rather funny."Barbara put her arm round the little figure. They walked on.
"I have not been used to bulls lately," said Lady Casterley. The bull came nearer.
"Granny," said Barbara, "you must go quietly on to the stile. When you're over I'll come too.""Certainly not," said Lady Casterley, "we will go together. Take no notice of him; I have great faith in that.""Granny darling, you must do as I say, please; I remember this bull, he is one of ours."At those rather ominous words Lady Casterley gave her a sharp glance.
"I shall not go," she said. "My legs feel quite strong now. We can run, if necessary.""So can the bull," said Barbara.
"I'm not going to leave you," muttered Lady Casterley. "If he turns vicious I shall talk to him. He won't touch me. You can run faster than I; so that's settled.""Don't be absurd, dear," answered Barbara; "I am not afraid of bulls."Lady Casterley flashed a look at her which had a gleam of amusement.
"I can feel you," she said; "you're just as trembly as I am."The bull was now distant some eighty yards, and they were still quite a hundred from the stile.
"Granny," said Barbara, "if you don't go on as I tell you, I shall just leave you, and go and meet him! You mustn't be obstinate!"Lady Casterley's answer was to grip her granddaughter round the waist; the nervous force of that thin arm was surprising.
"You will do nothing of the sort," she said. "I refuse to have anything more to do with this bull; I shall simply pay no attention."The bull now began very slowly ambling towards them.
"Take no notice," said Lady Casterley, who was walking faster than she had ever walked before.