She entertained Maynard for half an hour, while he drank a cup of tea. She did not share Jane's suspicion and dislike of him and felt no objection to the idea of his wedding Dinah and removing her from Lower Town. She was almost minded in his quiet and inoffensive presence to raise the question, and went so far as to tell him Dinah had driven to Ashburton that afternoon. But he showed no apparent interest in the fact and Faith did not continue on the subject. She could be generous, however, in the blessed light of Ben's promised recovery, and she admitted that Dinah had been of infinite value in the sick-room. Indeed Mrs. Bamsey did not hide from herself that Dinah had doubtless made the difference between life and death for her husband; and since she desired above all things that Ben should live, some of her dislike was softened for the time. She wished her away very cordially, but knew the hour of Dinah's departure must now be protracted indefinitely, for no question could at present be put to her foster-father. With her personal anxieties ended, Faith Bamsey found it possible to consider other people again. "I've never had time to think of what Enoch Withycombe's death meant yet," she said, "because it brought such a terrible time to us. But now us can lift up our heads and look round at other folk again and inquire after the neighbours. Melinda was down axing after my husband a bit ago, but I didn't see her. Jerry comes and goes. I hope Melinda gets over it. To nurse a father all them years and then lose him, must have left her stranded in a manner of speaking." "Mrs. Honeysett comes to see Miss Susan and farmer sometimes." "I warrant. Would you say Cousin Joe be looking in that direction now she's free?" Maynard shook his head. "I wouldn't. I don't reckon Mr. Stockman will marry again. He's very comfortable." "Yes--one of them whose comfort depends on the discomfort of somebody else, however." "So people seem to think. It's a hard home for Miss Susan; but it's her life, and if she's not a cheerful sort of woman, you can't say she's much downcast." "No--she dursn't be cast down. He wouldn't stand cast-down people round him. Mind to say I'm greatly obliged for the bird, and I hope Ben will eat a slice or two presently. I'll come up over and drink a dish of tea with them afore long. I'm properly withered for want of fresh air." "I dare say you are, ma'am." "I saw Enoch Withycombe last week," she said. "The old man was standing down in the Vale, not far from the kennels--just where you'd think he might be. And always seeing him lying down, as we did, it gave me quite a turn to mark how tall his ghost was." To see a dead man had not astonished Faith; but the unremembered accident of his height had done so. "How did he look, Mrs. Bamsey?" asked Maynard.