Laura turned a pale but smiling face towards him. She had been passing through a week of illness, owing perhaps to the April bleakness of this high fell, and old Daffady was much concerned. They had made friends from the first days of her acquaintance with the farm. And during these April weeks since she had been the guest of her cousins, Daffady had shown her a hundred quaint attentions. The rugged old cow-man who now divided with Mrs. Mason the management of the farm was half amused, half scandalised, by what seemed to him the delicate uselessness of Miss Fountain. "I'm towd as doon i' Lunnon town, yo'll find scores o' this mak"--he would say to his intimate the old shepherd--"what th' Awmighty med em for, bets me. Now Miss Polly, she can sarve t' beese"--(by which the old North Countryman meant "cattle")--"and mek a hot mash for t' cawves, an cook an milk, an ivery oother soart o' thing as t' Lord give us t' wimmen for--bit Missie!--yo've nobbut to luke ut her 'ands. Nobbut what theer's soomat endearin i' these yoong flibberties--yo conno let em want for owt--bit it's the use of em worrits me above a bit." Certainly all that old Daffady could do to supply the girl's wants was done. Whether it was a continuous supply of peat for the fire in these chilly April days; or a newspaper from the town; or a bundle of daffodils from the wood below--some signs of a fatherly mind he was always showing towards this little drone in the hive. And Laura delighted in him--racked her brains to keep him talking by the fireside. "Well, Daffady, I'll take your advice.--I'm hungering to be out again. But come in a bit first. When do you think the mistress will be back?" Daffady awkwardly established himself just inside the door, looking first to see that his great nailed boots were making no unseemly marks upon the flags. Laura was alone in the house. Mrs. Mason and Polly were gone to Whinthorpe, where they had some small sales to make. Mrs. Mason moreover was discontented with the terms under which she sold her milk; and there were inquiries to be made as to another factor, and perhaps a new bargain to be struck. "Oh, the missis woan't be heäm till dark," said Daffady. "She's not yan to do her business i' haäste. She'll see to 't aa hersen. An she's reet there. Them as ladles their wits oot o' other foak's brains gits nobbut middlin sarved." "You don't seem to miss Mr. Hubert very much?" said Laura, with a laughing look. Daffady scratched his head. "Noa--they say he's doin wonnerfu well, deän i' Froswick, an I'm juist glad on 't; for he wasna yan for work." "Why, Daffady, they say now he's killing himself with work!" Daffady grinned--a cautious grin.