Isaac was somewhat disappointed at his nephew’s lack of enthusiasm over a project which had at first seemed to take his fancy so much. Talk as he might about Richard’s future, and his own desire that he should pass the remainder of his days on the Down Farm, he could extract nothing from the young man but vague expressions of gratitude, and a doubtful promise to think the matter over.
‘I’m goin’ up yonder to Fiander’s,’ remarked Isaac, after breakfast; ‘there’s a little matter there as I must see to. Ye mid as well step up along wi’ me, Richard.’
‘I was thinking of taking a stroll round this place,’ rejoined Richard.
‘Why, what’s all your hurry? Ye may as well wait till I am ready to go wi’ ye. I’ll not be above two or three minutes at Littlecomb, and then we mid walk round together. Besides, ye’ll be wantin’ to pay your respects to Mrs. Fiander, won’t ye, arter drivin’ her from Dorchester yesterday—and her that’s goin’ to be your aunt?’
‘To be sure: I must keep on good terms with my aunt, must n’t I? Else perhaps she won’t make me welcome when I come to see you.’
‘No fear o’ that—she’ll make ’ee welcome enough. She al’ays behaved uncommon civil and respectful to I in ’Lias’s time. Ah, sure, that she did.’
‘Perhaps she won’t be pleased at my calling so early?’
‘Early! Dear heart alive! You don’t know that woman, Richard. She’s astir soon arter four in the morning, and she has her maids afoot afore that. Aye, and the men knows if they comes late they’ll get fined. Ah, she be a wonderful manager.’
‘Then, what in the name of wonder,’ said Richard to himself, as he followed the portly white figure across the yard and over the downs—‘what in the name of wonder can she want with you?’
Despite Farmer Sharpe’s protest most people would have considered the hour at which they betook themselves to call at Littlecomb Farm a sufficiently early one. The dew lay thick and sparkling upon the short herbage of the downs, and the air was still sharp and keen. A lark was circling over their heads, its jubilant notes piercing Richard’s heart with an odd sense of pain. What was this heaviness which had come upon him, and which even the brisk walk through the exhilarating air, and the delightfully familiar scents, and sounds, and sights could not drive away?