‘No, indeed. Of course when he was alive we never thought of things coming to this pass. He always told me I should be mistress here when he was gone, and that I should be well off. Dear granfer, he grudged me nothing.’ ‘Such a good education as he gi’ed ye too!’ observed Elias commiseratingly. ‘Oh, yes. I was at boarding-school for three years. I can play the piano and work the crewel-work, and I learnt French.’ ‘Dear heart alive!’ groaned Fiander, ‘and now ye be a-thrown upon the world. But I was meanin’ another kind of education. Cheese-making and dairy-work and that—you was sayin’ you was a good hand at suchlike.’ While he spoke he eyed her sharply, and listened eagerly for the response. ‘Yes, yes,’ agreed Rosalie, ‘I can do all that. We made all kinds of cheeses every day in the winter, “Ramil,” and “Ha’skim,” and “Blue Vinny” and all. Yes, I was kept busy—my butter always took top price in the market; and then there were the accounts to make up of an evening. My life was n’t all play, I can tell you, but I was very happy.’ ‘My missus,’ remarked Fiander, following out his own train of thoughts—‘that’s the second one: I buried her a year come Michaelmas—she was a wonderful hand at the Ha’skim cheeses. A very stirring body she was! I do miss her dreadful; and these here dairy-women as ye hire they be terrible folk for waste—terrible! I reckon I’ll be a lot out of pocket this year.’ ‘We all have our troubles, you see,’ said Rosalie, with tears still hanging on her black lashes. ‘Well, I thank you for your kind words, sir; they seem to have done me good. I think I’ll go in, now. I don’t want to meet any of the folk.’ ‘Bide a bit, my dear,’ said the farmer, ‘bide a bit! I’ve summat to ax ye. You bain’t thinkin’ of going to service, ye say, and ye don’t rightly know where to look for a home?’ Rosalie stared at him. He was laughing in a confused, awkward way, and his face was growing redder and redder. Before she could answer he went on: ‘There’s your name now—it be a pretty ’un. I do ’low it ’ud seem almost a pity to change it, an’ yet if ye was to lose the name ye might get the thing.’ ‘I don’t understand you, sir,’ cried she, growing red in her turn. ‘Why, Goldring, you know. ’T is a token, as I said jist now. If you was to get married you would n’t be Goldring no more, and yet ye’d be getting a Gold Ring, d’ye see—a weddin’-ring!’ ‘Oh,’ said Rosalie distantly. ‘If I might make so bold as to ax, have ye been a-keepin’ company wi’ any young man, miss?’ ‘No,’ she returned, ‘I don’t care for young men.’ ‘Well done,’ cried Fiander excitedly, ‘well done, my dear! That shows your spirit. Come, what ’ud ye say to an old one?’ His blue eyes were nearly jumping out of his head, his honest face was all puckered into smiles.