"Summer may get up her nature again."
"I'm sure I hope so too. And 'tis more than kind of you to cheer me up."
He walked beside her.
"May I give your dogs a sandwich?" he asked. "My aunt cut me a bit of bread and meat to fetch along with me; but I don't want it."
She nodded and Bartley divided his food between a fox-terrier and a collie. In a twinkling his luncheon vanished.
They kept silence for a long time and she, astonished that he could be mute, addressed him.
"David be going to show sheep at Tavistock this year."
"Good luck to them then," he answered, wakening from his reverie. "Those horned creatures he has got look very fine and carry an amazing deal of wool--anybody can see that. I'm very much inclined to try a few myself. Must ask him all about them if he'll be so kind as to tell me."
"No doubt he would. He's doing a bit of Moorman's work now in the quarter, and looking after a good few things besides his own."
"The Moorman, old Jonathan Dawe, is past his work, I doubt?"