With this they drove on; the young farmer very merry and full of talk. They were soon by the side of his farm. “There’s a flock of sheep on the turnips there,” he said, proudly; “they’re not to be beaten on this side Ashbourne. And there are some black oxen going for the night to the straw-yard. Jolly fellows, those--eh? But I reckon you don’t understand much of farming stock?” “No,” said Jane, and was again surprised at Nancy adding, “I wish we did. I think a farmer’s life must be the very happiest of any.” “You think so?” said the farmer, turning and looking at her earnestly, and evidently with some wonder. “You are right,” said he. “You little ones are knowing ones. You are right; it’s the life for a king.” They were at the village. “Pray stop,” said Jane, “and let us go down. I would not for the world go up the village thus. It would make such a talk!” “Talk, who cares for talk?” said the farmer; “won’t the youngsters we left on the road talk?” “Quite enough,” said Jane. “And are _you_ afraid of talk?” said the farmer to Nancy. “I’m not afraid of it when I don’t provoke it wilfully,” said Nancy; “but we are poor girls, and can’t afford to lose even the good word of our acquaintance. You’ve been very kind in taking us up on the road, but to drive us to our door would cause such wonder as would perhaps make us wish we had not been obliged to you.” “Blame me, if you arn’t right again!” said the young farmer, thoughtfully. “These are scandal-loving times, and th’ neebors might plague you. That’s a deep head of yourn, though,--Nancy, I think your sister caw’d you. Well, here I stop then.” He jumped down and helped them out. “If you will drive on first,” said Jane, “we will walk on after, and we’re greatly obliged to you.” “Nay,” said the young man, “I shall turn again here.” “But you’ve business.” “Oh! my business was to drive you here--that’s all.” James Cheshere was mounting his cart, when Nancy stepped up, and said: “Excuse me, Sir, but you’ll meet the mill-people on your return, and it will make them talk all the more as you have driven us past your farm. Have you no business that you can do in Tidser, Sir?” “Gad! but thou’rt right again! Ay, I’ll go on!” and with a crack of his whip, and a “Good night!” he whirled into the village before them. No sooner was he gone than Nancy, pressing her sister’s arm to her side, said: “There’s the right man at last, dear Jane.” “What!” said Jane, yet blushing deeply at the same time, and her heart beating quicker against her side. “Whatever are you talking of, Nancy? That young farmer fall in love with a mill-girl?” “He’s done it,” said Nancy; “I see it in him. I feel it in him. And I feel, too, that he is true and staunch as steel.”