‘’Ees,’ agreed Isaac doubtfully. ‘’Ees, I’ll come on Sunday. I be main glad you be thinking of taking my advice, Mrs. Fiander.’ ‘I am grateful to you for giving it,’ said Rosalie with a sweet smile; and the farmer walked away, thinking that on the whole women were far less unreasonable than he had hitherto supposed. The next day was Thursday—early closing day at Branston—therefore no one was surprised when Mrs. Fiander, having as she averred some business to do in the town, ordered the gig in the forenoon. It was the first time she had used that vehicle since her husband’s death, and she looked sorrowful enough as she climbed into it, clad in her deepest weeds. The steady old horse looked round when she gathered up the reins, as though wondering at the innovation—for Elias had always been accustomed to drive—and was with some difficulty induced to start. ‘Nigger be so wise as a Christian, that he be,’ commented Bundy, as the gig and its occupant disappeared. ‘He was a-standin’ and a-waitin’ for master, so sensible as I mid do myself. But he’ll have to get used to the change the same as the rest of us.’ ‘Ay, an’ p’r’aps he’ll not like it so very well,’ returned Abel sardonically. ‘Give a woman a whip in her hand, and she fancies she’s bound to lay it on.’ But Nigger was suffered to jog along the road at his own pace, for the old sadness which had fallen upon Rosalie had for a moment checked her eager spirit, and a new preoccupation was, moreover, now added to it. Would Elias approve of what she was about to do, or would he agree with Isaac? No, surely he would say that she knew best; he was always pleased with anything she did. He used to say that she was the best manager he had ever known; and, on the other hand, used frequently to speak of Isaac’s ‘notions’ with good-humoured derision. It will be seen that Mrs. Fiander’s meditations over her friend’s advice had resulted, as indeed might have been expected, in the determination to adhere to her original plan, and she was now on her way to interview two personages whose co-operation would be necessary in carrying it out. Her appearance in the shop of Mr. Hardy, the principal grocer of the town, caused a certain amount of commotion; everybody turned to look at the beautiful young widow, who had indeed for many days past formed the principal topic of conversation among the townsfolk; and much interest was aroused by her murmured request to see Mr. Hardy in private. ‘Certainly, Mrs. Fiander. Step this way, ma’am. John, open the door there!’ John Hardy, a tall, good-looking young man in a white linen jacket, hastened to obey his parent’s behest, and was even good enough to accompany the visitor along the passage which led from the shop to the family sitting-room. It was empty at this hour, Mrs. Hardy being presumably occupied in household duties; and Mr. John ushered Rosalie in with much ceremony, and invited her to be seated in the best armchair.