She scrambled to her feet. "I am so pleased to see you," she said. And the warmth of her greeting was unmistakable, not so much in the words, which were conventional enough, as in the tone of real welcome in which they were spoken.
"I am fortunate to find you," replied Philippa. "I was hoping so much that I might see you. You told me you were often on Bessmoor."
"Every day. I live out of doors. Now I do trust that you have time to come and see my cottage. It is not very far off, and if you do not scorn my humble equipage, my donkey, who seems to be sound asleep at the moment, will save you the trouble of walking. You look very white, I hope you have not been ill."
"It is only the effect of a stupid headache which bothered me yesterday, but I am really all right to-day."
Isabella eyed her searchingly. "Humph! you don't look it," she said candidly. "But let us see what a drive in our splendid air will do for you. It will not take more than a few minutes to collect my belongings and make a start."
She knelt down as she spoke and gathered together a quantity of papers which she had scattered as she rose to greet Philippa. "You must not expect our progress to be rapid," she continued, speaking in an easy, good-humoured way; "for my donkey, being an animal of great discernment, arrived long ago at the knowledge that time means nothing to us in these parts. We simply don't know the meaning of the word, and he resolutely refuses to hurry for any inducement I can offer him. When I first made his acquaintance I wore myself out in vain efforts to urge him into something that might reasonably be called a trot, but the experience was so distressing to us both that I gave it up in despair. Now, I frankly confess that he is my master. If he chooses to reflect upon the road, I do the same, and say nothing. If he proceeds, well, so do I. I still say nothing, and am inwardly thankful. But to give him his due, he is docile, which after all is something, for I cannot imagine what an unprotected female like myself, with scanty knowledge of quadrupeds and their ways, would do with a beast who kicked or ran away, especially in a lonely spot like this, where one so seldom meets a soul upon the road. Come up, Edward," she added, tugging at the bridle, and with some difficulty persuading the reluctant animal to take up his position between the shafts. Philippa went to the rescue, and between them the deed was done, and in a few moments they were seated side by side in the little cart, proceeding very deliberately across the moor.