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THREE:

THREE:Reuben did not trouble about the Realfs. Tilly had been no daughter of his from the day she married; it was a pity he had ever revoked his wrath and allowed himself to be on speaking terms with her and her family; if he had turned them out of Grandturzel straight away there would have been none of this absurd fuss��also he would not have lost a good crop of hay. But he comforted himself with the thought that his magnanimity had put about a thousand pounds into his pocket, so he could afford to ignore the cold shoulder which[Pg 443] was turned to him wherever he went. And the hay was insured.

THREE:Now, however, having vital interests at stake, Reuben became an absorbed and truculent Conservative. He never called in at the Cocks without haranguing the company on the benefits of the wheat-tax, and cursing Cobden and Bright. On the occasion of the '42 election, he abandoned important obstetric duties in the cow-stable to Beatup, and rode into Rye to record his vote for the unsuccessful Tory candidate. The neighbourhood was of Whig tendencies, spoon-fed from the Manor, but the Backfields had never submitted to Bardon politics; and now even the fact that the Squire held Reuben's land of promise, failed to influence him.Sometimes he would expostulate with her, and when[Pg 266] she met his expostulations with blandishments, he would feel himself yielding, and grow so furious that he would turn upon her in rage and indignation. Rose was not like Naomi; in her own words "she gave as good as she got," and once or twice, for the first time in his life, Reuben found himself in loud and vulgar altercation with a female. He had never before had a woman stand up to him, and the experience was humiliating.

THREE:"Because I hate it. It's spoiling your life. It's making a beast and a maniac of you. You think of nothing��absolutely nothing��but a miserable rubbish-heap that most people would be throwing their old kettles on."There was a restless anxiety that morning, in every inhabitant of the castle, from old Luke, the steward, who was fretting and fidgetting lest the lady should consider him too old for the stewardship, to the poor varlet who fed the dogs, and the dirty nief who scoured the platters. This anxiety increased when a messenger arrived to announce that the noble party were on the road from Oxford, and might be expected in a few hours: and when at length a cloud of dust was observed in the distance, old Luke, bare headed, and followed by the retainers and domestics, went forth to greet with the accustomed homage, De Boteler and his bride.