Rosalie bent her head over the vat in silence, her face averted, so that her visitors could see only the outline of her cheek, the exquisite curves of ear and neck.
‘Fair and soft,’ muttered Richard to himself. ‘Fair and soft enough to look at, but her heart is as the nether millstone!’
His uncle gazed reproachfully at him; he was proud of his travelled and book-learned nephew, and had eagerly looked forward to the impression he was sure to produce on ‘Mrs. F.,’ who had also been highly educated, and was considered an authority on matters appertaining to culture—and he was not showing off at all! He was standing there, mum-chance, as stupid as any other body might be. He gave him another admonitory nudge and remarked:
‘Richard, that’s my nevvy, did quite take me by surprise last night. I was n’t expectin’ to see ’en at all. To tell the trewth I had no kind o’ notion o’ where he mid be. He had n’t wrote—How long were it since you’ve a-wrote me last, Richard?’ inquired Isaac, driving home the query with his elbow, and again frowning and winking.
‘I don’t know,’ answered his nephew, in muffled tones. ‘A long time, I’m afraid; but, you see, you never wrote to me,’ he added with a laugh.
‘That be different, my boy,’ returned the farmer seriously. ‘There was reasons why I did n’t write, Richard. I never was a writin’ man. Lard, no,’—and here he relaxed, and uttered a jolly laugh,—‘’t is as much as I can do to put my name to a receipt, an’ then Bithey d’ do it for I, and I do jist stick my mark under it. Nay, Richard, I never was one for writing much—nay, I was n’t.’
He continued to roll his shoulders and to chuckle ‘nay’ meditatively at intervals, but his eyes were meanwhile fixed appealingly upon the face of Richard, who remained obstinately dumb.
Presently their hostess came to his assistance.
‘I suppose, now that you are here, you’ll remain some time, Mr. Marshall?’ she asked, without looking round; her voice in consequence sounding nearly as muffled as the young man’s own as she bent over her cauldron.
‘That depends, Mrs. Fiander. Of course I want to see as much as I can of my uncle, but I’m restless by nature, and—and I never stay very long in one place.’