Soon the rumour spread round Peasmarsh that Backfield was going to buy some more land. Reuben himself had started it.... Even the window had faded. Her head had fallen sideways on the pillow, and behind Boarzell the sky had kindled into a sheet of soaring triumphant flame.There was a big outcry in Peasmarsh against Backfield's treatment of the Realfs. Not a farmer in the district would have kept on a hand who had burnt nearly the whole farm to ashes through bad stacking, but this fact did little to modify the general criticism. A dozen excuses were found for Realf's "accident," as it came to be called"and old Ben cud have afforded to lose a stack or two, surelye."
ONE:"Aye, that I will, mother," replied Holgrave, kissing her cheek which had assumed its accustomed paleness; "and ill befall the son that will not!""Yes," said Pete, "and wud her hair all tumbling."
TWO:Oh that his brother had died!"Wot've you bin crying for?" he asked as he slid a chair close to hers. He wondered if the humiliation of Odiam had at last come to mean to her a little of what it meant to him.
THREE:At the wedding Rose fairly dazed the onlookers. She wore a dress of heavy white satin, with a white lace veiland a bustle. It was the first bustle that had ever been seen in Peasmarsh, or even in Rye. In itself it was devastating enough, but it soon acquired a prophetic and metaphorical significance which made it even more impressive. Spectators saw in it the forecast of Odiam's downfall"He can't stand that," said Brazier, the new man at Totease, "she's a Jezebubble.""Only it ?un't her head as she's tired this time," said Ticehurst."She shud have worn it in front of her, and then we shud have bin interested," said Cooper of Kitchenhour."Isabella, make no promises," interrupted De Boteler"parley not with such as he." And, striving to calm himself so as to speak dispassionately, he added, turning to the smith, "Walter Turner, you are acquainted with the spot that shelters Stephen Holgrave, and I insist that you instantly reveal it."
THREE:This would have been bad enough in any year, but in times when he bore the burden of his yet profitless milk-round it was only a little short of catastrophe. Making every allowance for a first year, that milk-round had[Pg 265] disappointed him. He found private custom hard to win, and even the ceasing of French dairy supplies, owing to the Franco-Prussian war, did not bring him the relief he had hoped. One or two small farms on the borders of Rye catered in dairy stuff for its inhabitants, and he found them hard to outbid or outwit. Also, owing to the scarcity of grass feed, it was a bad milk year, and poor supplies were put down by consumers to the new milkman, and in more than one case custom was withdrawn."My sweet," he murmured, holding her palm against his mouth, "my liddle creature, my liddle sweet. Git well, and you shan't never have to go through this ag?un. Six boys is all I'll want to help me, surelyeand you shall rest and be happy, liddle wife, and be proud of your children and the gurt things they're going to do."
