showed conjugal tenderness in public, perhaps because she had none to show.
"Oh, you are," said Bathsheba. "Well, Laban, will you stay on?"
"Yes, he'll stay, ma'am!" said again the shrill tongue of Laban's lawful wife.
"Well, he can speak for himself, I suppose?"
"Oh, Lord, no, ma'am. A simple tool. Well enough, but a poor gawkhammer mortal," the wife replied.
"Heh-heh-heh!" laughed the married man with a hideous effort of appreciation, for he was as irrepressibly good-humoured under ghastly snubs as a parliamentary candidate on the hustings.
The names remaining were called in the same manner.
"Now I think I have done with you," said Bathsheba, closing the book and shaking back a stray twine of hair. "Has William Smallbury returned?"
"No, ma'am."
"The new shepherd will want a man under him," suggested Henery Fray, trying to make himself official again by a sideway approach towards her chair.
"Oh—he will. Who can he have?"
"Young Cain Ball is a very good lad," Henery said, "and Shepherd Oak don't mind his youth?"
