He waved his hand to her as she went away, with a smile which made Janet’s heart jump, and in which indeed no great strain of imagination was required to see a lover’s lingering of delight and regret as the object of his affection left him. Spears laughed; he saw no deficiency. “Come, come,” he said, “we have more serious work in hand. Leave all that to a seasonable moment.” And upon the man’s face there came a smile--soft, luminous, full of tender sympathy. In his day he too had known what love was. Fraser was an uncouth, thick man, short of stature, with that obscuration of griminess about him which sometimes appears in the general aspect of a labouring man. He was not dirty, but he was indistinct, as seen through a certain haze of atmosphere, which, however, from his side was penetrated by two keen eyes. He gave Paul a quick look, then, with a word of salutation, took his seat at the table, on which a paraffin lamp, emitting no delightful odour, was standing. As he did so two others came in. One a lean man, with spindle limbs and a long pale face, who looked as if he had grown into exaggerated pale length, like some imprisoned plant struggling upwards to the distant light. The other was a clerk, in the decent, carefully arranged dress which distinguishes his class, very neat and respectable, and “like a gentleman,” though a world apart from a gentleman’s ease of costume. The tall man was Weaver; the clerk’s name was Short. They took their seats also with brief salutations. There was room around the table for several more, but these seemed all that were coming. Spears took his place at the head. He was by far the most living and life-like of the party. “Are we all here?” he said. “There are some vacant places. I hope that doesn’t mean falling away. Where is Rees, Short? What has become of him? It was you that brought him here.” “He has heard of another situation,” said the clerk. “His wife never liked it. I doubt much whether we’ll see him again. He never was a man to be calculated upon. Hot at first--very hot--but no stamina. I warned you, Spears.” “And Layton--he was hot too--has he dropped off as well?” “Well, you see, Spears,” said the long man, with laboured utterance, working his hand slowly up and down, “work’s mended in our trade; there’s a deal in that. When it’s bad a man’s ready for anything; as it was all the early summer--not a thing doing. There were dozens on us as would have gone anywhere to make sure of a bit o’ bread. But work’s mended, and most of us think no more on what we’ve said. Not me,” the speaker added; “I’m staunch. It’s nothing to me what the women say.” “I suppose you have got the maps and all the details?” said the clerk. “If we’re going out in October, we’d better settle all the details without delay.”