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"Well, wot I want to know is why you dudn't tell me all this afore."Reuben turned on him savagely.
Company Logo TWO:"And I ask wot d'you mean by 'worth while'?"
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TWO:Reuben stood in the doorway and watched her come up the path, herself dim and ghostly, like the twilight and the flowers. When she was close he held out his arms to her, and she fell on his breast.

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TWO:
THREE:

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THREE:Her mouth stretched mechanically into a smile, and at the same time a tear slid out of the corner of her eye, and rolled slowly over her thin cheeks. In the red, smouldering light of the sky behind Boarzell it looked like a tear of blood.

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THREE:"I can'toh!""It's from Rose," said Caro timidly.

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TWO:There were several of his friends at Starcliffe that afternoonmen and women rising in the worlds of literature, law, and politics. It was possible that Richard would contend the Rye divisionin the Liberal interest, be it said with shameand he was anxious to surround himself with those who might be useful to him. Besides, he was one of those men who breathe more freely in an atmosphere of Culture. Apart from mere utilitarian questions, he liked to talk over the latest books, the latest cause clbre or diplomatic coup d'tat. Anne, very upright, very desiccated, poured out tea, and Reuben noted with satisfaction that Nature had beaten her at the battle of the [Pg 458]dressing-table. Richard, on the other hand, in spite of an accentuation of the legal profile, looked young for his age and rather buckish, and rumour credited him with an intrigue with a lady novelist.Saturday came, the day which had always been Robert's Sabbath, with a glimpse into Paradise. He toiled miserably with the horses, Reuben's stern eye upon him, while hatred rose and bubbled in his heart. What right had his father to treat him so?to make a prisoner and a slave of him? He vowed to himself he would break free; but how?how?... A chink of pence in Reuben's pocket seemed like a mocking answer. THREE:"Maybe I shan't much longer," said Tilly, looking down at her rolling-pin.
TWO:"Oh, no, UncleI don't want to go. Alice has asked me to stay to supper.""My lord has heard from the steward that you are an honest tenant, and has directed that any alteration you may require in your tenement shall be attended to, and that the field which lies at the back of your dwelling be added to it without additional rent; and, as it gives me pleasure to encourage the industrious, in any request you may make, my interest shall not be wanting. And now, honest man," added she, with even more suavity, "my lord has a question to askit is but a simple inquiry, and I feel assured that a person of such strict probity will not evade itknow you Stephen Holgrave's place of concealment?" As she put the interrogatory, she looked earnestly in the smith's face.
"Won't I, just!"News of Richard came a few months later. He was heard of as a barrister on the Southern Circuit, and defended a gipsy on trial for turnip-stealing at Lewes. Rumours of him began to spread in the neighbourhoodhe was doing well, Anne Bardon was working for him, and he was likely to be a credit to her. At the Cocks he was the subject of much respectful comment, and for the first time Reuben found himself bathed in glory reflected from one of his children. He could not help feeling proud of him, but wished he did not owe anything to the Bardons."Wipe the blood off his face."It was about that time that the great Lewin case came on at the Old Bailey. The papers were full of it, and Reuben could not suppress a glow of pride when Maude the dairy-woman read out the name of Richard Backfield as junior counsel for the defence. But his pride was to be still further exalted. The senior counsel collapsed with some serious illness on the very eve of the trial, and Richard stepped into his shoes. The papers were now full of his name, it was on everyone's lips[Pg 386] throughout the kingdom, and especially in the public-houses between Rye and the Kent border. Men stopped drinking at the Cocks when Reuben came in, and women ran down to their garden gates when he passed by. Reuben himself did not say much, but he now regularly took in a daily paper, and being able to recognise the name of Backfield in print, sat chasing the magic word through dark labyrinths of type, counting the number of its appearances and registering them on the back of his corn accounts.
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