The Alderman frowned for a moment, taking a tentative sniff of the air. He found nothing strange or out of the ordinary, at least nothing that would elicit such delighted reaction from the young lady. Then it dawned on his not too overly taxed mind that she was from the city. She wouldn't used to the scents and smells of the land and well might be experiencing some of them for the first time. And there was only one over-powering fragrance that he could make out at the moment. With his red jovial face and wide grin, he chuckled. "Why, miss! That's manure! You know. Pig shit! Nothing for good crops like pig shit!"

***

Victor eased back in the old wooden chair upon his porch. His porch. He chuckled. It was still hard to believe! Two years ago he'd been discharged as no longer fit for service and not fit for one of those new fangled artificial limbs that were all the rage; cheaper to give him his half pay and get rid of him than spend the small fortune those damnable devices cost. His leg might be weak and tremble at the knee when overly tasked, but at least it was still his own! He sat back and smoked his briar pipe in ease as he watched the sun set. Soon he'd head in, clump over to the room he'd made for his bed, and turn in for the night. There was no point in staying up late and wasting the precious lamp oil, and the reek of the tallow-fat candles tickled his nose too much to bother with. But in that moment, he paused to reflect his good fortune in life.

Until the rumble of a horse cart disturbed his pleasure. Squinting down the lane that lead towards the village square, Victor could just make out old Brown at the reins, his wisp of a daughter Feather behind him. And someone else. Someone dressed in finery far too great for the farmlands of Abordale. The sight of her made him frown, memories of dandy ladies with all their fripperies laughing at soldiers returned from the front, brining men in the hospitals some small treat as though it were a great act of charity... The former soldier's ease was disturbed. In stony trepidation, he watched the comical show of the Alderman lowering himself out of the cart's driving bench (a sight sure to cure the worse of depressions) and ambled over towards the house. Victor said nothing as the old man approached.

"Vinegar! Glad to see you awake still! I know you're a true man of the land, for all that rifle carrying you done. Early to bed, early to rise, and all that. A proper farmer. Should have been among us years ago." Alderman Brown waited for a reply that was not forth coming. Nervously shifting on his feet, he gestured back towards the cart. "I... er.... I was wondering if you might do me, and the village, a bit of a favor, Vinegar? Young lady there. She come into town, nowhere else to go. Want to have one of them there... er... holidays! That's it. A holiday here among us. Only we've got no rooms for her, least none as fit for such gel. You with this big cottage, and I know you don't have use for the second floor of it what with your leg. So... I was hoping...?"

Victor still said nothing, although the scowl in his face said everything that needed saying. 

"Oh, come now," pleaded the elder, "I knows your not fond of the city, but she's just a gel! My Feather will take care of her, you won't even know she's here! And she's for paying, tis not a charity we're asking!"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Victor fought the oncoming headache. Feather again. Chit of a girl, some sixteen or seventeen years old and in want of a husband that she wasn't somehow related to; that was the problem with small towns like this. Everyone ended up related to each other sooner or later. Brown had been trying to foist her off on Victor no more than a month after he'd purchased the orchard and lands, and this was no doubt another scheme of his to invest her into his home and thoughts. It didn't matter that he had no interest in the girl at all, even though she could arguably be called 'pretty.' She simply had no spine! No thoughts of her own! It wasn't that Feather was simple in the head, just... simple. No, if Victor were to ever marry, it would have to be a woman with strong will and determination, someone not afraid of work and full of life! It was tempting to utter a few scathing remarks to drive Brown and his flighty offspring off so they might leave him be.

The mention of coin changed his mind. He was far from wealthy, nor was he exactly wanting. Still, new coin would buy a better pump for the washhouse, maybe hire some lads in to help with the harvest; prideful enough he wanted the work to be all his, the throbbing in his knee brought some common sense. And how long a holiday could it be? He let the Alderman twist in the wind for several minutes before heaving a great sigh of annoyance.

"Fine," he agreed curtly. "Room and meals, morning and evening. She have to do for herself if she wants 'luncheon.' I'll trust to you to manage the coin, Alderman, and see me my fair share. But they both are to stay out of my way. I have enough trouble getting about without more underfoot."