The young ladies' visit must have been expected, for when they were ushered by Mrs. Shaw into the little parlour, there was a tray on the table with glasses on it, and a bottle of gooseberry wine and a cake of shortbread.
Mrs. Shaw poured out some wine for each of the girls, eyeing them critically as she did so. When at last she spoke it was not with the broad accent usual amongst the people of Heathermuir--a fact which in itself proclaimed her as not one of them, and added not a little to their respect for her, and to the mystery which surrounded her.
"So you've come to see the farm, Miss Forester," she said in her deep but musical voice. "What do you wish to see first?"
Blanche, conscious of the earnest scrutiny of those dark eyes, blushed rosy red, and, bewildered by this sudden question, looked appealingly at Marjory, who, unfortunately, had a mouthful of shortbread at that moment; then, feeling that she must say something, Blanche stammered, "Oh, I don't know--er--have you any pigs?" She did not in the least wish to see pigs more than any other animal, but they were the only living things she could think of at the moment as appropriate to a farm.
Marjory laughed, but Mrs. Shaw did not move a muscle.
"Yes," she said, "we have pigs; you shall see them first if you please."
"Thank you," said Blanche; and then, thinking that she ought to try to be polite and friendly, "What very nice wine this is!"
"Yes, it is," responded Mrs. Shaw. "I made it myself."
Blanche was somewhat abashed by the reply, and could think of no further remark. She did not yet know that there was not a shadow of pretence about Mrs. Shaw. Her reply had no savour of conceit; it was honest, that was all. She knew the wine was good, because she had made it herself and could vouch for it; therefore, why should she deny or disclaim it?
Blanche would have liked to linger in the little parlour to examine some of the curiosities which had caught her eye. Pieces of dried seaweed, scraps of coral, strings of queer-looking beads, and even dried and stuffed fish, were arranged on the mantelpiece and on every available bracket and shelf. She was eager to know where all these treasures had come from, and how they had found their way to the Low Farm, but she did not dare to question Mrs. Shaw. All Marjory knew about them was, as she told Blanche afterwards, that it was said they came from "foreign parts," which was the general term applied by the people of Heathermuir to any country outside of the British Isles. It was said that a mysterious parcel came regularly every Christmas to Mrs. Shaw, that she never spoke of its contents to any one, but that the collection of curiosities grew larger every year.