"I didn't know as the mason was comin' to-day to put up the new pigs' 'ouse?"
"He isn't coming till after Christmas."
"Well, I'm sure I 'eard some one 'ammerin' in nails."
She shook her head. "I didn't hear it."
The noise of dishes being piled together on the breakfast table caught Byron's attention. He glanced at Gray and the sight of youth, with a blush on the hot cheek, a suggestion of tears on the long lashes, was to him as the opening of a door. He came out of his preoccupation and the knocking either died away or was forgotten. Forgotten, too, were his rage and disappointment.
"What's she doin' out o' bed so early for?"
"I'm going into Stowe with the butter and there's a lot to do."
"'Oo yer gwine with?" asked Byron, instantly on the alert.
"With Jim."
"You needn't go." He was reluctant to have her out of his reach, even for a morning. He wanted her at home under his eye. He was going to renew his pleading as soon as the moment was auspicious. "Rosevear can take that in."