“There is nobody whose opinion he would sooner take,” Selby said, and as he did so he looked at Joan in a way that somewhat startled her. It was not such a look as she had been in the habit of seeing directed to herself. She had seen other people so regarded, and had laughed. Somehow this gave her an odd sensation, a sensation chiefly of surprise; then she felt inclined to laugh also, though at herself. Bless us all, what had the man got into his head? surely not any nonsense of that sort! It so tickled Joan that she felt herself shaking with laughter, to which she dared not give vent--and she turned her eyes upon her stocking, which was the last thing she ever looked at, lest an incautious contact with someone else’s should produce an explosion of mirth. “Are you rested now, mother?” she said, “I’ll have to go presently and look after Bess.” Bess was the dairy woman, who had no head for anything, but was Joan’s dutiful slave. “I was not so tired as you thought, Joan,” said Mrs. Joscelyn, half aggrieved, “I have been doing my work, as you might see--” “Now, mother, that is a real deception; when I thought you were taking a doze, and was entertaining Mr. Selby with country matters, to let you get your rest! however when there’s a question of farms or the lie of the land, or anything like that, I may take it upon me to say I am better than mother, though she’s far cleverer than me,” said Joan, laying aside her knitting. Selby got up to open the door for her, which was an attention quite unusual, and increased the overpowering desire to laugh with which she had been seized. “I wonder if I might ask to see your dairy?” he said in a low tone, detaining her at the door. “Not to-day,” said Joan, briskly, “I never let anybody see my dairy but when it is in prime order; and we are busy to-day.”