"I wish it would fall on your obstinate heads," cried the Manager hotly, as he mounted with quite youthful activity and tied up the flag-staff himself. "Perhaps that would teach you how to behave on such a day as this. You have spoilt Lawrence already amongst you; he used to be worth something, but now he only does what his lord and master Ulric directs."
"Ought we to be so overjoyed that a new set of fine masters is coming?" said Ulric in a low tone. "I should have thought we had had enough of the old!"
The Manager, still busy with the flag, luckily did not hear this speech; but the young girl, who had stood silent on one side, turned hastily and cast an anxious look upwards.
"Ulric, for my sake!"
At this injunction the defiant young miner held his peace, but his features did not soften by a shade. The girl remained standing before him; she seemed to hesitate, having something to say and not liking to say it. At last she spoke in a low tone, half questioning, half entreating.
"So you really will not come to the fête this evening?"
"No."
"Ulric!" ...
"Let me be, Martha, you know I can't bear your dancing nonsense."
Martha stepped back quickly, her red lips pouting, and a glistening tear in her eyes which sprang even more from anger than from wounded feeling at his unfriendly reply. Ulric either did not notice it, or did not care; indeed, he seemed to trouble himself but little about her. Without wasting another word, the girl turned her back on him, and crossed over to the other side.