It was the cider country, which met the woodland district on the axis of this hill.

Over the vale the air was blue as sapphire--such a blue as outside that apple-valley was never seen.

Under the blue the orchards were in a blaze of bloom, some of the richly flowered trees running almost up to where they drove along.
Over a gate which opened down the incline a man leaned on his arms, regarding this fair promise so intently that he did not observe their passing.
"That was Giles," said Melbury, when they had gone by.
"Was it?
Poor Giles," said she.
"All that blooth means heavy autumn work for him and his hands.

If no blight happens before the setting the apple yield will be such as we have not had for years." Meanwhile, in the wood they had come from, the men had sat on so long that they were indisposed to begin work again that evening; they were paid by the ton, and their time for labor was as they chose.

They placed the last gatherings of bark in rows for the curers, which led them farther and farther away from the shed; and thus they gradually withdrew as the sun went down.
Fitzpiers lingered yet.