"There's no potman in Dorset with his head," she answered. "He's got a
brain and it's very seldom indeed you find such an honest chap with such
a lot of intellects. The clever ones are mostly the downy ones; but
Job's single thought is the welfare of the house, and he pushes honesty
to extremes."

"If you can say that, he must be a wonder, certainly, for none knows
what honesty means better than you," said Mr. Gurd. He had put Nelly's
rose into his coat.

"He's more than a potman, chiefly along of being such a good friend to
my late husband. Almost the last sensible thing my poor dear said to me
before he died was never to get rid of Job. And no doubt I never shall.
I'm going to put up his money at Michaelmas."

"Well, don't make the man a god, and don't you spoil him. Job's a very
fine chap and can carry corn as well as most of 'em--in fact far better;
but a man is terrible quick to trade on the good opinion of his fellow
man, and if you let him imagine you can't do without him, you may put
false and fantastic ideas into his head."

"I'm not at all sure if I could do without him," she answered, "though,
even if he knew it, he's far too fine a character to take advantage. A
most modest creature and undervalued accordingly."

Then a boy ran in for Richard and he hastened away, while Nelly took a
sheaf of flowers to the summer-house and made the table bright with
them.