"Farming?"

"That's it. And what with bad times, one doesn't get much time for
the organ. And when one does, one's vingers run away with one."

"You a farmer?"

"At Pennington Varm. My name's Trivett, miss. If ever you would come
in to tea, Mrs Trivett would be proud to welcome 'ee."

"I should be delighted. Perhaps, if you would like to teach me, I'd
have organ lessons."

"I get so little time, miss. What day will 'ee come to the varm?"

"Next Saturday, if I may,"

"That's zettled. I'm glad you be coming zoon; the colour of the
young grass be wonderful."

"Indeed!" remarked Mavis, as she looked at him, surprised.

"That's the advantage of varming," continued Trivett: "you zee natur
in zo many colours and zo many moods."

Thus talking, they reached the churchyard gates, where Mavis
released Jill, who was delighted at being set at liberty.

Mavis said goodbye to Trivett and recrossed the churchyard on her