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ONE:"Oh! hereI forgot the wine," said Bridget, handing in a large jug, and then again returning with a number of drinking cups and another measure of wine. Turner placed the liquor on the table, and was just filling some of the cups, when Stephen Holgrave, Thomas Sack, and three others, pushed open the door, and, after a brief salutation, took their seats at the table."Nonsense!d?an't be a fool, my gal." TWO:"I can't understand, papa," said Anne Bardon, "how you can go on selling land to that odious Backfield."
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ONE:Chapter 5 TWO:
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ONE:Holgrave answered carelessly, and without looking at the smith, continued his work. TWO:"The child is better," replied Margaret, "but I am very ill."
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ONE:He was free of them at last, galloping down the Landgate hill towards Rye Foreign."Yes, Margaret," replied Holgrave, "John Byles is to have it; he told the smith so himself. But," he continued, sitting upright in his chair, and then starting upon his feet,"does he think he shall keep it?" TWO:He drove through Peasmarsh and turned into the Totease lane. The fields on both sides of it were his now. He sniffed delightedly the savour of their sun-baked earth, of the crumpling leaves in their hedges,[Pg 448] of the roots, round and portly, that they nourished in their soiland the west wind brought him the scent of the gorse on Boarzell, very faintly, for now only the thickets of the top were left.
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ONE: TWO:One thing he noticed, and that was that the housework was always done for him by his mother as if there were no sickness to fill her time. Always when he came home of an evening, his supper was waiting for him, hot and savoury. He breakfasted whenever he had a mind, and there were slices of cold pie or dabs of bread and meat for him to take out and eat as he workedhe had no time to come home to dinner now. Really his mother was tumbling to things wonderfully wellshe looked a little tired sometimes, it is true, and the lines of her face were growing thinner, but she was saving him seven shillings a month and the girl's food; and all that money and food was feeding the hungry earth.There were little pots of cream and bottles of hair-lotion, there were ebony-backed brushes, patent leather shoes, kid gloves, all sorts of marvels which Caro had seen nowhere but in shops. As she unpacked she felt a kind of soreness in her heart. Why should Rose have all these beautiful things, these laces, these perfumes, these silks and ribbons, while Caro wore nothing but stuff and calico or smelt of anything sweeter than milk? As she glanced at Rose, leaning back in the most comfortable chair to be found in that uncomfortable roomthe firelight dancing on the silken ripples of her gown, her neck and arms gleaming through clouds of lacethe soreness woke into a pain. Rose had something more even than silks and laces. She had love. It was love that made her hold her chin so proudly, it was love that made her cheeks flush and her eyes glow. And no one had ever loved Caroshe had never heard a man's voice in tenderness, or felt even so much as a man's hand fondle hers....
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