(Calling one's self merely Somebody, without giving a name, is not to be taken as an example of the ill-breeding of the rural world: it springs from a refined modesty, of which townspeople, with their cards and announcements, have no notion whatever.) Bathsheba was out.

The voice had evidently been hers.
"Will you come in, Mr.Oak ?" "Oh, thank 'ee," said Gabriel, following her to the fireplace.

"I've brought a lamb for Miss Everdene.

I thought she might like one to rear; girls do." "She might," said Mrs.Hurst, musingly; "though she's only a visitor here.

If you will wait a minute, Bathsheba will be in." "Yes, I will wait," said Gabriel, sitting down.