The negotiations were between a farmer from a distant county and the old man’s son.  In these there was a difficulty.  The farmer would not take the crust without the crumb of the bargain, in other words, the old man without the younger; and the son had a sweetheart on his present farm, who stood by, waiting the issue with pale lips.

“I’m sorry to leave ye, Nelly,” said the young man with emotion.  “But, you see, I can’t starve father, and he’s out o’ work at Lady-day.  ’Tis only thirty-five mile.”

The girl’s lips quivered.  “Thirty-five mile!” she murmured.  “Ah! ’tis enough!  I shall never see ’ee again!” It was, indeed, a hopeless length of traction for Dan Cupid’s magnet; for young men were young men at Casterbridge as elsewhere.

“O! no, no—­I never shall,” she insisted, when he pressed her hand; and she turned her face to Lucetta’s wall to hide her weeping.  The farmer said he would give the young man half-an-hour for his answer, and went away, leaving the group sorrowing.

Lucetta’s eyes, full of tears, met Farfrae’s.  His, too, to her surprise, were moist at the scene.

“It is very hard,” she said with strong feelings.  “Lovers ought not to be parted like that!  O, if I had my wish, I’d let people live and love at their pleasure!”

“Maybe I can manage that they’ll not be parted,” said Farfrae.  “I want a young carter; and perhaps I’ll take the old man too—­yes; he’ll not be very expensive, and doubtless he will answer my pairrpose somehow.”

“O, you are so good!” she cried, delighted.  “Go and tell them, and let me know if you have succeeded!”

Farfrae went out, and she saw him speak to the group.  The eyes of all brightened; the bargain was soon struck.  Farfrae returned to her immediately it was concluded.

“It is kind-hearted of you, indeed,” said Lucetta.  “For my part, I have resolved that all my servants shall have lovers if they want them!  Do make the same resolve!”

Farfrae looked more serious, waving his head a half turn.  “I must be a little stricter than that,” he said.

“Why?”

“You are a—­a thriving woman; and I am a struggling hay-and-corn merchant.”

“I am a very ambitious woman.”

“Ah, well, I cannet explain.  I don’t know how to talk to ladies, ambitious or no; and that’s true,” said Donald with grave regret.  “I try to be civil to a’ folk—­no more!”

“I see you are as you say,” replied she, sensibly getting the upper hand in these exchanges of sentiment.  Under this revelation of insight Farfrae again looked out of the window into the thick of the fair.

Two farmers met and shook hands, and being quite near the window their remarks could be heard as others’ had been.

“Have you seen young Mr. Farfrae this morning?” asked one.  “He promised to meet me here at the stroke of twelve; but I’ve gone athwart and about the fair half-a-dozen times, and never a sign of him:  though he’s mostly a man to his word.”