They even seemed to
link him in a sort of inconsequent way with those patriarchs who derived
importance from their floating capital of flocks and herbs, he-asses and
she-asses. It had been an anxious and momentous occasion when he had had
to decide definitely between "the Byre" and "the Ranch" for the naming of
his villa residence. A December midnight was hardly the moment he would
have chosen for showing his farm-building to visitors, but since it was a
fine night, and the young people were anxious for an excuse for a mild
frolic, Luke consented to chaperon the expedition. The servants had long
since gone to bed, so the house was left in charge of Bertie, who
scornfully declined to stir out on the pretext of listening to bovine
conversation.
"We must go quietly," said Luke, as he headed the procession of giggling
young folk, brought up in the rear by the shawled and hooded figure of
Mrs. Steffink; "I've always laid stress on keeping this a quiet and
orderly neighbourhood."
It was a few minutes to midnight when the party reached the cow-house and
made its way in by the light of Luke's stable lantern. For a moment
every one stood in silence, almost with a feeling of being in church.
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