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THREE:Mrs. Backfield was the one to bear the brunt of these economies. She had been a trifle pampered during the latter days of her marriage, and set far more store than her sons on dainty food; also the work which she performed so well was a tax on her unaccustomedness. But she never grumbled, and this was not only because escape was near at hand. Strange to say, in these new days of his lordship, Reuben began to fill a place in her heart which he had never filled before. While her husband was alive, he had never really come inside her life, he had been an aloof, inarticulate being whom she did not understand. But now that he had asserted himself, she found herself turning towards him. She would have worked without prospect of release—indeed, as the days went by, Harry and his home and her promised idleness dwindled in her thoughts.

THREE:She wondered if she were awake—everything seemed so strange, so new, and yet paradoxically so natural. Was she the same Caro who had washed the babies and cooked the supper and resigned herself to dying an old maid? She could not ponder things, ask herself how it was that a man who had not known her ten[Pg 342] minutes could love her—all she realised was his arm round her waist, and in her heart a seethe of happy madness."Yes—I slept for an hour. I think I'm better."

THREE:

THREE:"Thomas Calverley," continued she, in a loud calm voice, "produce your warrant!"

THREE:When it came within ten yards of the fences, it doubted itself suddenly after the manner of crowds. It stopped, surged back, and mumbled. "Down with the fences!" shouted someone—"Long live the Squire!" shouted someone else. Then there was a pause, almost a silence."Wot do you mean, sweetheart? D?an't you love me?"