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Updated: April 30, 2025
"Aye, blush if ye will, my dark lady, but Mother Dibbin knows she's seen it in the fire, dreamed it in her dreams, and read it in the ink. The path lies very dark afore ye, my lady, aye very dark it be, and full o' cares, and troubles, but there's the sun shining beyond, bright, and golden.
"Well sir, I'll be going, there be Miss Anthea in the garden yonder, and if she was to see me now there's no sayin' but I should be took a laughin' to think o' this 'ere hundred pound." "Miss Anthea! where?" "Comin' through the rose-gardin. She be off to see old Mother Dibbin.
As Bellew looked at it now, that same small curl that nodded and beckoned to him above Anthea's left ear, he strongly inclined to the latter opinion. "Adam tells me that you are going out, Miss Anthea." "Only as far as Mrs. Dibbin's cottage, just across the meadow." "Adam also informs me that Mrs. Dibbin is a witch." "People call her so."
"I ought to warn you that Mrs. Dibbin is very old, and sometimes a little queer, and sometimes says very surprising things." "Excellent!" nodded Bellew, holding the little gate open for her, "very right and proper conduct in a witch, and I love surprises above all things." But Anthea still hesitated, while Bellew stood with his hand upon the gate, waiting for her to enter.
They call Mother Dibbin a witch, an' now as she's down wi' the rheumatics there ain't nobody to look arter 'er, 'cept Miss Anthea, she'd ha' starved afore now if it 'adn't been for Miss Anthea, but Lord love your eyes, an' limbs, Mr. Belloo sir! Miss Anthea don't care if she's a witch, or fifty witches, not she! So good-night, Mr. Belloo sir, an' mum's the word!"
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