“In half a day. That's not carving; that's trickery. The tool does it all. Before I invented this saw, a good workman would have been a day over that; but now YOU can do it in half an hour, when you are master of the instrument. And now I'll show you honest work.” He took one of the knobs and examined it; then sawed off a piece, and worked on the rest so cunningly with his various cutters, that it grew into a human face toward their very eyes. He even indicated Jael Dence's little flat cap by a means at once simple and ingenious. All the time he was working the women's eyes literally absorbed him; only those of Grace flashed vivid curiosity, Jael's open orbs were fixed with admiration and awe upon his supernatural cleverness. He now drew some more arabesques on the remaining part of the board, and told Miss Carden she must follow those outlines with the saw, and he would examine her work on Monday morning. He then went off with a quick, independent air, as one whose every minute was gold. “If you please, miss,” said Jael, “is he a real working man, or only a gentleman as makes it his pastime?” “A gentleman! What an idea! Of course he is a working man. But a very superior person.” “To be sure,” continued Jael, not quite convinced, “he don't come up to Squire Raby; but, dear heart, he have a grander way with him than most of the Hillsborough gentlefolks as calls here.” “Nonsense!” said Grace, authoritatively. “Look at his nails.” Henry came twice a week, and his pupil made remarkable progress. She was deferential, attentive, enthusiastic. By degrees the work led to a little conversation; and that, in due course, expanded into a variety of subjects; and the young lady, to her surprise, found her carver well-read in History and Sciences, and severely accurate in his information, whereas her own, though abundant, was rather loose. One day she expressed her surprise that he could have found time to be so clever with his fingers and yet cultivate his mind. “Well,” said he, “I was lucky enough to have a good mother. She taught me all she knew, and she gave me a taste for reading; and that has been the making of me; kept me out of the public-house, for one thing.” “Ah! you WERE fortunate. I lost my mother, sir, when I was but eight years old.” “Oh dear, that was a bad job,” said Henry brusquely but kindly. “A very bad job,” said Grace, smiling; but the next moment she suddenly turned her fair head away and tears stole down her cheeks. Henry looked very sorry, and Jael, without moving, looked at Grace, and opened those sluices, her eyes, and two big drops of sympathy rolled down her comely face in a moment.