‘Oh, Sam!’ exclaimed Rosalie in a heartbroken tone, pointing tragically to the nearest yellow mound.
‘I would n’t take on, I’m sure, mum,’ responded Sam with a ghastly smile. ‘Nay now, I would n’t take on. ’T was very ill done o’ Mr. Hardy—so everybody do say, but he’s that graspin’—he never do care for sellin’ a bit o’ cheese to poor folks—’t is all bacon, bacon wi’ he! “Don’t ’ee go for to fill your stummicks wi’ that there ’ard cheese,” I ’ve a-heard him say myself. “Buy a bit o’ bacon as ’ull stand to ye hot or cold.”’
‘Bacon!’ ejaculated Rosalie with a note of even deeper woe. Then, pointing to the cheeses again, she groaned: ‘Oh, Sam, was it worth while getting rid of the pigs—for this?’
‘Dear heart alive, mum,’ responded Belbin, plucking up his courage, and speaking more cheerfully. ‘Mr. Hardy bain’t the only grocer in Branston! There be a-many more as ’ud be proud an’ glad to sell them cheeses for ye.’
‘No, no. Why, the story must be all over the town by now—no one will look at them in Branston. Everyone will know that Mr. Hardy packed them back to me. No, if I sell them at all I must send them away somewhere—to Dorchester, perhaps.’
‘Well, and that ’ud be a good notion, mum,’ commented Belbin. ‘You’d get a better price for them there, I d’ ’low. Lard! At Dorchester the Blue Vinney cheeses do go off like smoke.’
‘There is always a sale for them there, to be sure,’ said Rosalie, somewhat less lugubriously.
‘And our own horses and carts ’ud take them there in less than no time,’ pursued Sam, more and more confidently. ‘Things have just fell out lucky. It be a-goin’ to take up to-night, and I d’ ’low there’ll be some sharpish frostiss—’t will just exercise the horses nicely, to get them roughed and make ’em carry them cheeses to Dorchester—’t will be the very thing as ’ull do them good. And it’ll cost ye nothing,’ he added triumphantly.
‘Well, Sam, you are a good comforter,’ cried his mistress, brightening up under the influence of his cheerfulness. ‘’T is a blessing, I am sure, to have someone about one who does n’t croak.’
She turned to him as she spoke with one of her radiant smiles—a smile, however, which very quickly vanished, for Sam’s face wore a most peculiar expression.