“Sit down and have some tea,” said Mrs. Northover.

“I’ve took a hasty cup,” he answered, “but could very well do with another.”

“And how’s Mister Roberts, Sarah?” asked her aunt.

“Fine.  He’s playing in a cricket match to-day—­Bridetown against Chilcombe.  They’ve asked him to play for Bridport since Mister Raymond saw him bowl.  He’s very pleased about it.”

“Teetotal, isn’t he?” asked Mr. Job.

“Yes, Mister Legg.  Nick have never once touched a drop in all his life and never means to.”

“A pity there ain’t more of the same way of thinking,” said Mrs. Northover.  “And I say that, though a publican and the wife of a publican; and so do you, don’t you, Job?”

“Most steadfast,” he replied.  “When I took on barman as a profession, I never lifted pot or glass again to my own lips, and have stood between many a young man and the last half pint.  I tell you this to your face, Missis Northover.  Not an hour ago I was at ‘The Tiger,’ to let Richard Gurd know the stable was ready, and in the private bar there were six young men, all drinking for the pleasure of drinking.  If the younger generation only lapped when ’twas thirsty, half the drinking-places would shut, and there wouldn’t be no more brewers in the peerage.”

He shook his head and drank his tea.

Mrs. Northover changed the subject.

“How’s the works?” she asked.  “Do the people like the new master?”

“Just the same—­same hours, same money—­everything.  And Mister Daniel’s brother, Mister Raymond’s, come to it to learn the business.  He is a cure!”

“He’s over there now,” said Job, waving his hand in the direction of ‘The Tiger.’  “Drinking port wine he is with that young sport, Motyer, and others like him.  I don’t like Motyer’s face.  He’s a shifty chap, and a thorn in his family’s side by all accounts.  But Mister Raymond have a very open countenance and ought to have a good heart.”

“What do you mean when you say he’s a ‘cure,’ Sarah?” asked her aunt.

“He’s that friendly with us girls,” she answered.  “He’s supposed to be learning all there is to spinning, but he plays about half his time and you can’t help laughing.  He’s so friendly as if he was one of us; but Sabina Dinnett is his pet.  Wants to make her smoke cigarettes!  But there’s no harm to him if you understand.”

“There’s always harm to a chap that plays about and don’t look after his own business,” declared Job.  “I understand his brother’s been very proper about him, and now it’s up to him; and he ain’t at the Mill to offer the girls cigarettes.”

“He’s got his own room and Mister Best wishes he’d bide in it,” explained Sarah, “but he says he must learn, and so he’s always wandering around.  But everybody likes him, except Levi Baggs.  He don’t like anybody.  He’d like to draw us all over his hackling frames if he could.”

They chattered awhile, then worked again; but Sarah stayed to supper, and it was not until half-past ten o’clock that she started for home.