"Well, you can 'ardly expect 'un to."
"I dun't see why 'e shouldn't. 'Tis my land, why shouldn't 'e do as I want for'n to do?"
"'Cos 'e's so obstinate in 'is way as you are in yours."
"My dear life, I bain't obstinate. 'Ow can 'ee say so? I only do same as my father and granfer did. I'm sure they wouldn't like for me to alter it."
"No, I don't 'spose they would," said Mrs. Tom, "still..."
Sabina was troubled, but not on account of Isolda's mistaken view of her character. That she had already forgotten. "Well, I've got th' old George Biddick. I'm sure 'e'll do what I want for'n to do, if Leadville won't."
"Still that isn't like seein' for yerself."
"I shall 'av to take the chance of that," but she did not seem happy about it. She mused with knit brow for some seconds, then changed the subject. "Isolda, I'd like for Mrs. Bate to put my bed up in the big room."
This—the old Justice Room—occupied one end of the house. For many years it had been used as a storeroom, but underneath dust and litter lay evidence, in painted panelling and marble mantelpiece, of former state.
"'Tis a proper old lumber-shop," said Mrs. Tom, "but that doesn't matter."