"Pooh! I know as well as you what I should do; only I don't do it!"

They drove in silence along the straight road till they were within

the horizon of Marygreen, which lay not far to the left of their

route. They came to the junction of the highway and the cross-lane

leading to that village, whose church-tower could be seen athwart the

hollow. When they got yet farther on, and were passing the lonely

house in which Arabella and Jude had lived during the first months of

their marriage, and where the pig-killing had taken place, she could

control herself no longer.

"He's more mine than hers!" she burst out. "What right has she to

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him, I should like to know! I'd take him from her if I could!"

"Fie, Abby! And your husband only six weeks gone! Pray against it!"

"Be damned if I do! Feelings are feelings! I won't be a creeping

hypocrite any longer--so there!"

Arabella had hastily drawn from her pocket a bundle of tracts which

she had brought with her to distribute at the fair, and of which she

had given away several. As she spoke she flung the whole remainder

of the packet into the hedge. "I've tried that sort o' physic and

have failed wi' it. I must be as I was born!"

"Hush! You be excited, dear! Now you come along home quiet, and

have a cup of tea, and don't let us talk about un no more. We won't

come out this road again, as it leads to where he is, because it

inflames 'ee so. You'll be all right again soon."

Arabella did calm herself down by degrees; and they crossed the

ridge-way. When they began to descend the long, straight hill, they

saw plodding along in front of them an elderly man of spare stature

and thoughtful gait. In his hand he carried a basket; and there was

a touch of slovenliness in his attire, together with that indefinable

something in his whole appearance which suggested one who was his

own housekeeper, purveyor, confidant, and friend, through possessing

nobody else at all in the world to act in those capacities for him.

The remainder of the journey was down-hill, and guessing him to be

going to Alfredston they offered him a lift, which he accepted.

Arabella looked at him, and looked again, till at length she spoke.

"If I don't mistake I am talking to Mr. Phillotson?"

The wayfarer faced round and regarded her in turn. "Yes; my name is

Phillotson," he said. "But I don't recognize you, ma'am."




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