"Nay, I doubt they’ve not made much out, anyway round." Simon shook his head. "Likely they’re best where they be," he said, as Sarah had said on the road in. He sat silent a moment longer for politeness’ sake, and then was stopped again as he rose to go. "May I enquire what you intend to do when you leave the farm?" The old man’s face had brightened as he talked, but now the shadow came over it again. "I can’t rightly tell, sir, till I’ve had a word wi’ Will, but anyway he’ll not let us come to want. He’s offered us a home at Blindbeck afore now, but I reckon his missis’d have summat to say to that. Ay, and mine an’ all!" he added, with a fresh attempt at a laugh. "There’d be lile or nowt done on t’farm, I reckon, if it ever come about. It’d take the lot on us all our time to keep them two apart!" Again, as he finished, he remembered Sarah’s eyes, and once again he let the opportunity pass. He was on his feet now, anxious to get away, and there seemed little use in prolonging this evil hour. Mr. Dent would think they were for ever whingeing and whining and like enough calling out before they were hurt.... He moved hurriedly to the door, conscious of a sense of relief as well as of loss, and Sarah’s eyes missed their final chance of getting into the talk.... "You’re likely throng, sir," he finished, "and I’ll not keep you." He put a hand to the latch. "Anyway, you’ll kindly take it as we’ll quit next year." Dent said--"No, Simon, I shan’t do anything of the sort!" and laughed when the other shot round on him again with open mouth. His expression was grave, however, as he ended his speech. "I want you to think it over a bit first." Simon felt his head going round for the second time. The red came into his thin face. "I don’t rightly know what you’re driving at, sir," he said, with a dignified air. "I reckon I can give in my notice same as anybody else?" "Oh, Lord, yes, Simon! Of course." Dent’s eyes went back to the notes. "Yes, of course you can." "Ay, well, then?" Simon demanded stiffly. "What’s all this stir?" "Well, ... it’s like this, you see ... you’ve missed your time. It was due a couple of months back, as I said before." "Ay, but you’re not that hard and fast about notice, as a rule! Tom Robison did t’same thing last year, you’ll think on, and you let it pass. Seems to me you’re by way of having a joke wi’ me, sir," he added, in a pitiful tone, "and I don’t know as it’s kind, seeing how I’m placed." Dent jumped to his feet and came across to lay a hand on his arm. "It’s only that I’ve a feeling you’ll change your mind, Simon," he said earnestly, "and you’ll be sorry if you’ve spread it about that you’re going to quit. A week, say,--a week won’t make that much difference, will it? Can’t you let it stand over another week?" "You said a minute back ’twas a pity we’d stopped so long! I can’t make out what you’re at, Mr. Dent,--I’m danged if I can!"