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FORE:"I agree with you there," said Reuben, "it's not wot life gives that's good, it's wot you t?ake out of it."CHAPTER VII.

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FORE:Chapter 14

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FORE:Chapter 15"Be brief, Sir Blacksmith," replied the Baron, surprised at the abrupt question, "be brief with whatever you have to say."

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FORE:"Does your grace see that little boat just before us?"

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FORE:Rose had begun to question her attitude towards her husband. She had hitherto never doubted for a moment that she loved him��of course she loved him! But now she asked herself��"If I love him, how is it that our most tender moments have never meant so much to me as that second kiss of Handshut's?" None of Reuben's kisses stood out in her memory as that kiss,[Pg 287] he had never made the thrill of life go through her, he had never filled her heart to bursting with joy so infinite that it was sorrow, and sorrow so exquisite that it was joy. She would observe Reuben, and she would see him��old. He was fifty-four, and his hair was grey; there were crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes, and straight lines between his brows, where he had furrowed them as the pitiless sun beat down upon his face. There were other lines too, seamed and scored by hard struggles. He was strong as an ox, but she told herself he was beginning to move a bit stiffly. He had exposed himself so ruthlessly to the wet and cold that his joints had become rheumatic. It was nothing very much, but he liked to have her rub them occasionally, and up till then she had liked it too. Now she suddenly saw something dreary and preposterous in it��here she was married to a man thirty years older than herself, his chattel, his slave. She did not really love him��how could she, with all those years between them? She was fond of him, that was all��and he was getting older, and horribly cantankerous; and she was young��oh, God! she had never known till then how young.God save the Queen!"

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FORE:When evening came and the cool of the day, he would go for a little stroll��round by Burntbarns or Socknersh or Moor's Cottage, just to see what sort of a mess they were making of things. He was no longer upright now, but stooped forward from the hips when he walked. His hair was astonishingly thick��indeed it seemed likely that he would die with a full head of hair��but he had lost nearly all his teeth��a very sore subject, wisely ignored by those who came in contact with him. The change that people noticed most was in his eyes. In spite of their thick brows, they were no longer fierce and[Pg 457] stern;��they were full of that benign serenity which one so often sees in the eyes of old men��just as if he had not ridden roughshod over all the sweet and gentle things of life. One would think that he had never known what it was to trample down happiness and drive love out of doors��one would think that having always lived mercifully and blamelessly he had reaped the reward of a happy old age."By my faith, cousin," said he, addressing Thomas of Woodstock, "yonder are the varlets! Do you see how bravely their pennons are waving, and how, here and there, among their black heads, something bright glitters in the sun?"

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