She lifted the wool veil tied round her face, and looked all
astonishment. Gabriel and his cold-hearted darling, Bathsheba
Everdene, were face to face.

Bathsheba did not speak, and he mechanically repeated in an abashed
and sad voice,--

"Do you want a shepherd, ma'am?"




CHAPTER VII


RECOGNITION--A TIMID GIRL


Bathsheba withdrew into the shade. She scarcely knew whether most to
be amused at the singularity of the meeting, or to be concerned at
its awkwardness. There was room for a little pity, also for a very
little exultation: the former at his position, the latter at her own.
Embarrassed she was not, and she remembered Gabriel's declaration of
love to her at Norcombe only to think she had nearly forgotten it.

"Yes," she murmured, putting on an air of dignity, and turning again
to him with a little warmth of cheek; "I do want a shepherd. But--"

"He's the very man, ma'am," said one of the villagers, quietly.