At a little distance the men in his employ were assisting him to carry out his contract.

Rows of copse-wood lay on the ground as it had fallen under the axe; and a shelter had been constructed near at hand, in front of which burned the fire whose smoke had attracted him.

The air was so dank that the smoke hung heavy, and crept away amid the bushes without rising from the ground.
After wistfully regarding Winterborne a while, Melbury drew nearer, and briefly inquired of Giles how he came to be so busily engaged, with an undertone of slight surprise that Winterborne could seem so thriving after being deprived of Grace.

Melbury was not without emotion at the meeting; for Grace's affairs had divided them, and ended their intimacy of old times.
Winterborne explained just as briefly, without raising his eyes from his occupation of chopping a bough that he held in front of him.
"'Twill be up in April before you get it all cleared," said Melbury.
"Yes, there or thereabouts," said Winterborne, a chop of the billhook jerking the last word into two pieces.
There was another interval; Melbury still looked on, a chip from Winterborne's hook occasionally flying against the waistcoat and legs of his visitor, who took no heed.
"Ah, Giles--you should have been my partner.

You should have been my son-in-law," the old man said at last.