‘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. ‘Why, my dear!’ he cried, casting an ardent look upon her, ‘I be main glad to hear ye say so! I’d ax nothin’ better nor to be about ye always; an’ I’d comfort an’ do for ye so well as I could. ’T is a thing,’ he added, with modest candour, ‘as I’ve a-had in my mind for some time, but I did n’t like to speak afore. I was n’t sure as ye’d relish the notion. But now as you’ve a-hinted so plain—’ Rosalie had averted her face for a moment, but as he advanced towards her with extended arm, she flashed round upon him a glance which suddenly silenced him. He remained staring at her with goggling eyes and a dropping jaw during the awful pause which succeeded. He heaved a sigh of relief, however, when she at last broke silence, for she spoke calmly, and her words seemed innocuous enough. ‘Is that your coat hanging up behind the door?’ ‘Yes, mum,’ responded Sam, no longer the lover but the very humble servant. ‘Go and get it then. Your cap, I think, is on the table.’ She fumbled in her pocket for a moment, and presently drew forth her purse, from which she counted out the sum of fourteen shillings. Her eyes had a steely glitter in them as she fixed them on Sam. ‘Here are your week’s wages,’ she said. ‘Take them, and walk out of this house.’ ‘Mum,’ pleaded Sam piteously. ‘Missus—!’ ‘Go out of this house,’ repeated Rosalie, pointing mercilessly to the door; ‘and never let me see your face again. Out of my sight!’ she added quickly, as he still hesitated. Sam’s inarticulate protests died upon his lips, and he turned and left her, Rosalie looking after him with gleaming eyes until his figure was lost to sight. CHAPTER XI Follow a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly it, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone she will court you. Say, are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men? BEN JONSON. Who by resolves and vows engag’d does stand For days that yet belong to Fate, Does, like an unthrift, mortgage his estate Before it falls into his hand.