“I’m thankful you done as you did.  But wheer shall ’e turn now?”

“Doan’t knaw.  I’ll lay I’ll soon find work.”

“Theer’s some of the upland farms might be wanting harrowin’ an’ seed plantin’ done.”

“Who’s to Newtake, Gran’faither Ford’s auld plaace, I wonder?”

“’Tis empty.  The last folks left ’fore you went away.  Couldn’t squeeze bare life out of it.  That’s the fourth party as have tried an’ failed.”

“Yet gran’faither done all right.”

“He was a wonnerful man of business, an’ lived on a straw a day, as mother says.  But the rest—­they come an’ go an’ just bury gude money theer to no better purpose than the gawld at a rainbow foot.”

“Well, I’ll go up in the village an’ look around before Miller’s got time to say any word against me.  He’ll spoil my market if he can, I knaw.”

“He’d never dare!”

“I’d have taken my oath he wouldn’t essterday.  Now I think differ’nt.  He never meant friendship; he awnly wanted for me to smart.  Clem Hicks was right.”

“Theer’s Mr. Grimbal might give ‘e work, I think.  Go an’ ax un, an’ tell un I sent ’e.”

A moment later Chris was sorry she had made this remark.

“What be talkin’ ’bout?” Will asked bluntly.  “Tell un you sent me?”

“Martin wants to be friends.”

“‘Martin,’ is it?”

“He axed me to call un so.”

“Do he knaw you’m tokened to Clem?”

“Caan’t say.  It almost ’peared as if he didn’t last time he called.”

“Then sooner he do the better.  Axed you to call un ’Martin’!”

He stopped and mused, then spoke again.

“Our love-makin’s a poor business, sure enough.  I’ve got what I wanted an’, arter this marnin’, could ’most find it in me to wish my cake was dough again; an’ you—­you ain’t got what you want, an’ ban’t no gert sign you will, for Clem’s the weakest hand at turnin’ a penny ever I met.”

“I’ll wait for un, whether or no,” said Chris, fiercely.  “I’ll wait, if need be, till we’m both tottling auld mumpheads!”

“Ess; an’ when Martin Grimbal knaws that is so, ’twill be time enough to ax un for work, I dare say,—­not sooner.  Better he should give Clem work than me.  I’d thought of him myself, for that matter.”

“I’ve axed Clem to ax un long ago, but he won’t.”

“I’ll go and see Clem right away.  ’Tis funny he never let the man knaw ’bout you.  Should have been the first thing he tawld un.”

“Perhaps he thought ’twas so far off that—­”

“Doan’t care what he thought.  Weern’t plain dealin’ to bide quiet about that, an’ I shall tell un so.”

“Well, doan’t ’e quarrel with Clem.  He’m ’bout the awnly friend you’ve got left now.”

“I’ve got mother an’ you.  I’m all right.  I can see as straight as any man, an’ all my brain-work in the past ban’t gwaine to be wasted ’cause wan auld miller fellow happens to put a mean trick on me.  I’m above caring.  I just goes along and remembers that people has their failings.”