Sussex Gorse: The Story of a FightKaye-Smith, Sheila
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Sussex Gorse: The Story of a Fight
Kaye-Smith, Sheila
Sussex (England) -- Fiction
At first she had not been pleased. She was only nineteen, not
particularly robust, and resented the loss of her health and freedom;
but after a while sweet thoughts and expectations began to warm in her.
She loved little babies, and it would be delicious to have one of her
own. She hoped it would be a girl, and thought of beautiful names for
it--Victoria, Emilia, Marianna, and others that she had seen in the
Keepsake. But her delight was nothing to Reuben's. She had been
surprised, overwhelmed by his joy when she told him her news. He,
usually so reserved, had become transported, emotional, almost
lyrical--so masterful, had humbled himself before her and had knelt at
her feet with his face hidden in her gown.
She could never guess what that child meant to Reuben. It meant a fellow
labourer on his farm, a fellow fighter on Boarzell, and after he was
dead a Man to carry on his work and his battle. At last he would have
someone to share his ambition--that child should be trained up in the
atmosphere of enterprise; as other fathers taught their children to love
and serve God, so Reuben would teach this son to love and serve Odiam.
He would no longer strive alone, he would have a comrade, a soldier with
him. And after this boy there would be other boys, all growing up in the
love of Odiam, to live for it.
He treated his wife like a queen, he would not allow her the smallest
exertion. He waited on her hand and foot and expected his mother to do
the same. Every evening, or, later in the year, in the afternoon, he
would come home early from his work, and take her out for a walk on his
arm. He would not allow her to go alone, for fear that she might
overtire herself or that anything might frighten her. He insisted on her
having the daintiest food, and never eating less than a certain quantity
every day; he decided that the Odiam chairs were too hard, and bought
her cushions at Rye. In fact he pampered her as much as he denied
everybody else and himself.
Naomi soon came to enjoy her coddling, even though occasionally his
solicitude was inclined to be tiresome. As time wore on he would not let
her walk up and down stairs, but carried her up to bed himself, and
down again in the morning. She grew fat, white, and languorous. She
would lie for hours with her hands folded on her lap, now and then
picking up a bit of sewing for a few minutes, then dropping it again.
She was proud of her position in comparison with other farmers' wives in
the same circumstances. Their men kept them working up to the last week.
During this time she saw very little of Harry and scarcely ever thought
of him. She no longer had any doubts as to his being quite mad.
§ 2.
In the autumn Reuben bought ten more acres of Boarzell--a better piece
of land than the first, more sheltered, with more clay in the soil. Hops
would do well on the lower part of it down by the brook.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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