‘Ah!’ agreed Mr. Sharpe.
‘You’ll be the one to miss him, sir. As we was sayin’, Mrs. Belbin and me, Mr. Sharpe ’ull be the one to miss him. Ye did use to go there every Sunday reg’lar, Mr. Sharpe, did n’t ye?’
‘Ah!’ agreed the farmer again. His large face seemed just as expressionless as before, but a close observer might have detected a sudden suffusion of colour to the eyelids.
‘They d’ say as Mrs. Fiander be takin’ on terrible,’ put in Mrs. Belbin, folding her arms across her ample bosom, and settling herself for a good chat with an air of melancholy enjoyment. ‘She is a nice young woman—yes, she’s that; and the marriage did turn out wonderful well, though folks did think it a bit foolish o’ Mr. Fiander to choose sich a young maid at his time o’ life. But he was lonesome, poor man, losing his first wife so long ago, and the children dying so young, and his second missus bein’ took too. But, well, as I d’ say, the last marriage turned out wonderful well; there was never a word said again’ Mrs. Fiander.’
‘There was never a word to be said,’ returned Mr. Sharpe somewhat sternly.
‘Yes, just what I d’ say,’ chimed in Mrs. Paddock. ‘His ch’ice was a good ’un. She be a nice body, Mrs. Fiander be.’
‘Ah!’ agreed the farmer, ‘I d’ ’low she be a nice plain young woman. Her husband have a-proved that he did think his ch’ice a good ’un, for he’ve a-left her everything as he had in the world.’
‘But not if she marries again, sir, sure?’ cried both the women together.
‘Lard,’ added Mrs. Belbin, ‘he’d never ha’ been sich a sammy as to let her keep everything if she goes for to take another man.’
‘She be left house and farm, stock and money, onconditional,’ returned Mr. Sharpe emphatically. And he passed on, leaving the gossips aghast.