"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
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."