They did not speak to each other till he had her in his gig, driving up Playden Hill. Then he muttered--"Liddle Naomi--my wife," and kissed her on the neck and lips. She did not want him to kiss her, because she wished to avoid crumpling her gown, and also she was afraid Reuben's horse might choose that moment to kick or run away. But of course such reasons did not appeal to him, and it was a dishevelled and rather cross little bride whom he lifted out at Odiam. The wedding supper was to be held at the bridegroom's house, as old Gasson's rooms were not large enough, and he objected to "having the place messed up." During the marriage service Mrs. Backfield had been worrying about her pie-crusts--indeed she almost wished she had stayed at home. Naomi helped her dish up the supper, while Reuben received the guests who were beginning to arrive, some from Rye, some from the neighbouring farms. There had been a certain amount of disgusted comment when it became known that Backfield was marrying his brother's sweetheart; but criticism of Reuben always ended in reluctant admiration for his smartness as a business man. "He'll go far, that young feller," said Realf of Grandturzel. "Where's Harry?" Vennal asked. "Sh-sh--döan't you go asking ork'ard questions." "They wöan't have him to fiddle, I reckon," said Realf. "I shud say even young Ben wudn't do that." "Why not?" put in Ditch--"he döan't know naun about it. He's forgotten she ever wur his girl." "You can't be sure o' that, Mus' Ditch--only the Lard knows wot mad folkses remember and wot they forget. But there's the supper ready; git moving or we'll have to sit by the door." Odiam's strict rule had been relaxed in honour of the wedding, and a lavish, not to say luxurious, meal covered two long tables laid end to end across the kitchen. There was beef and mutton, there was stew, there were apple and gooseberry pies, and a few cone-shaped puddings, pink and white and brown, giving an aristocratic finish to the supper. Naomi and Reuben sat at the head of the table, Mr. Gasson and Mrs. Backfield on either side of them. Harry was not present, for his methods of feeding made him rather a disgusting object at meals. Naomi had put herself tidy, but somehow she still felt disordered and flustered. She hated all this materialism encroaching on her romance. The sight of the farmers pushing for places at the table filled her with disgust--the slightest things upset her, the untidy appearance of the dishes after they had been helped, some beer stains on the cloth, even her husband's hearty appetite and not quite noiseless eating. The room soon became insufferably hot, and she felt herself getting damp and sticky--a most unlovely condition for a bride.