That was the last time he had seen her; but he meant to make leisure for going to the Farm to-morrow.  To-day, he knew, was her day for going to the Chase to sew with the lady’s maid, so he would get as much work done as possible this evening, that the next might be clear.

One piece of work that Adam was superintending was some slight repairs at the Chase Farm, which had been hitherto occupied by Satchell, as bailiff, but which it was now rumoured that the old squire was going to let to a smart man in top-boots, who had been seen to ride over it one day.  Nothing but the desire to get a tenant could account for the squire’s undertaking repairs, though the Saturday-evening party at Mr. Casson’s agreed over their pipes that no man in his senses would take the Chase Farm unless there was a bit more ploughland laid to it.  However that might be, the repairs were ordered to be executed with all dispatch, and Adam, acting for Mr. Burge, was carrying out the order with his usual energy.  But to-day, having been occupied elsewhere, he had not been able to arrive at the Chase Farm till late in the afternoon, and he then discovered that some old roofing, which he had calculated on preserving, had given way.  There was clearly no good to be done with this part of the building without pulling it all down, and Adam immediately saw in his mind a plan for building it up again, so as to make the most convenient of cow-sheds and calf-pens, with a hovel for implements; and all without any great expense for materials.  So, when the workmen were gone, he sat down, took out his pocket-book, and busied himself with sketching a plan, and making a specification of the expenses that he might show it to Burge the next morning, and set him on persuading the squire to consent.  To “make a good job” of anything, however small, was always a pleasure to Adam, and he sat on a block, with his book resting on a planing-table, whistling low every now and then and turning his head on one side with a just perceptible smile of gratification—­of pride, too, for if Adam loved a bit of good work, he loved also to think, “I did it!” And I believe the only people who are free from that weakness are those who have no work to call their own.  It was nearly seven before he had finished and put on his jacket again; and on giving a last look round, he observed that Seth, who had been working here to-day, had left his basket of tools behind him.  “Why, th’ lad’s forgot his tools,” thought Adam, “and he’s got to work up at the shop to-morrow.  There never was such a chap for wool-gathering; he’d leave his head behind him, if it was loose.  However, it’s lucky I’ve seen ’em; I’ll carry ’em home.”