The thresher purred and panted under the window--"Urrr-um--Urrr-um." Now and then Reuben would call out sharply, "Now then! mind them genuines--they're mixing wud the seconds!" or "Kip them sacks closed, Beatup." But for most of the afternoon the stillness was broken only by the hum of the machine which sometimes almost seemed a part of it. Mrs. Backfield according to her custom watched the sun. It bathed the floor at first, but gradually she saw the square of the window paint itself on the wall, and then slide slowly up towards the ceiling. Her eyes mechanically followed it; then suddenly it blazed, filmed, flowed out into a wide spread of light, in the midst of which she saw the kitchen at Odiam as it used to be, with painted fans on the chimney-piece and pots of flowers on the window-sill. Her husband sat by the fire, smoking his pipe, while Harry was helping her tidy her workbasket. "There now!" she said to him, "I knew as it really wur a dream." "Wot?" he asked her, and she, in her dream, felt a spasm of delight, for it was all happening so naturally--it must be true. "About fäather being dead, and you being blind, and Ben having the farm." "Of course it's a dream--fäather äun't dead, and I äun't blind, and Ben's picking nuts over at Puddingcake." "You couldn't spik to me lik this if it wur a dream, Harry--could you, dear?" He didn't answer--and then suddenly he turned on her and shouted: "Sack your chaff, now--can't you sack your chaff?" "Harry! Harry!" she cried, and came to herself in the little sun-smouldering room, while outside Reuben stormed at his boys to "sack their chaff," and the machine purred and sang--"Urrr-um--Urrr-um." A sudden terrible lucidity came to Mrs. Backfield. "It's machines as he wants," she said to herself, "it's machines as he wants...." Then a gentle darkness stole upon her eyes, as her overworked machine of flesh and blood ran down and throbbed slowly into stillness and peace. Outside the great fatigueless machine of steel and iron sang on--"Urrr-um--Urrr-um--Urrr-um." § 4. The girls cried a great deal at their grandmother's death--she had never taken up enough room in the boys' lives for them to miss her much. As for Reuben, though he had been fond of her, he could not sincerely regret her, since for the last few months she had, so to speak, been carried on entirely at a loss. He needed every penny and every minute more desperately than ever, for Grandturzel ran Odiam closer and closer in the race. Realf now plainly saw how matters stood. As yet there was no open breach between him and Reuben--when one of them came into the public-house the other always waited a decent interval before clearing out--but if there was no open breach, there was open rivalry. All the neighbourhood knew of it, and many a bet was made.