FORE:The year passed, and the new year came, showing the farm still on the upward struggle, with everyone hard at work, and no one, except Reuben, enjoying it particularly. Luck again favoured Odiamthe lambing of that spring was the best for years, and as the days grew longer the furrows bloomed with tender green sproutings, and hopes of another good harvest ran high.Twenty brawny hands grasped successively that of the spokesman, and an applauding murmur ran through the meeting.
FORE:"I am angry with you just because I pity you. It's a shame that I should have to pity youyou're such a splendid man. It ought to be impossible to pity you, but I doI pity you from my soul. Think what you're missing. Think what your children might have been to you. How you might have loved that dear stupid Roberthow proud you might have been of Albert, and of Richard leaving you for a professional career ... and poor little George, just because he was weak and unlike the rest, he might have been more to you than them all. Then there's your brother Harry"
ONE:
TWO:He sometimes asked himself why he was still jealous. Rose no longer gave him provocation, she was much quieter than she had used to be, and seemed busy with her children and straitened house-keeping. It was once more a case of instinct, of a certain vague sensing of her[Pg 301] aloofness. Often he did not trouble about it, but sometimes it seared through him like a hot bar.She gently rattled the door-handle. There was no denying itthe house was locked up. It must be later than she thoughtthat walk on the Rother levels must have been longer than it had seemed to her thirsty love. A thrill of fear went through her. She hoped Reuben would not be angry. She was his dutiful wife.
THREE:She always said that.
FORE:At last the gods, who are more open-handed than ungrateful people suppose, took pity on the rivals, and gave them something to fight about. The pretext was in itself trivial, but when the gunpowder is laid nothing bigger than a match is needed. This particular pretext was a barrow of roots which had been ordered from Kitchenhour by Reuben and sent by mistake to Grandturzel. Realf's shepherd, not seeing any cause for doubt, gave the roots as winter fodder to his ewes, and said nothing about them. When Reuben tramped over to Kitchenhour and asked furiously why his roots had never been sent, the mistake was discovered. He came home by Grandturzel, and found his precious roots, all thrown out on the fields, being nibbled by Realf's ewes.
"And this is the habit of some new order, that is to be honored by being adopted by the unpriestly son of a bondman!" said Calverley, pointing, in derision, at the coarse woollen dress of the monk. Something burst from the lips of the latter, but it was lost in Calverley's sudden command to seize him. The men again approached, but the first who caught the monk's arm fell to the ground, stunned and bleeding."But, steward, surely it is more than a year and a day since I heard the shouting of the hue and cry; and you know the Forest of Dean is privileged. I'll warrant he knows too much of the bondage of Sudley to venture beyond its precincts.""I'm hemmed if I'll have you working on my farm in that foolery. You'll m?ake us the laughing-stock of Peasmarsh. You've got Ebenezer on the brain, you have, and you can justabout git it off again.""Where?"The brothers were left alone, except for Harry, who was busy imitating Albert's cough, much to his own satisfaction.
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