‘Yes; I followed your advice, you see.’
‘And it did n’t altogether answer?’ said the farmer, with a nervous laugh.
‘Oh, yes, it answered very well. I think the men know I’m in earnest now.’
‘Them two Hunts come round to my place at dinner-time; they were in a taking, poor chaps! But ’twill do them good. All the same, I think I’d let ’em off, if I was you, Mrs. Fiander. Job be a roughish sort o’ chap, but he be a good cowman; an’ Abel, he be wonderful with the management o’ pigs.’
‘I’m not going to let them off,’ said Rosalie, her face hardening again as she thought of Abel’s maniacal dance, and of the loud voice which had frightened her, and of Job’s insolent manner when he had said, ‘The missus bain’t to my likin’.’
‘Well, but ’twill be a bit ’ard to find as good,’ Isaac objected. ‘P’r’aps ye’ll not better yourself. I doubt ’t will be harder for you to get on wi’ strange men.’
‘I am not going to put strange men in their place. I am not going to hire any more men; I’m going to have women. I can manage women very well.’
‘But, my dear,’ cried Isaac, opening his eyes very wide, and speaking in horror-stricken tones, ‘women can’t do men’s work.’
‘No, but they can do women’s work. I have thought it all out, Mr. Sharpe, and my mind is made up. Job and Abel must go. I shall put Sam Belbin in Job’s place.’
‘Well, he have behaved well to ’ee,’ conceded Isaac, unwillingly; ‘but he be young. I doubt if he’s fit for ’t.’