As if by accident, therefore, they drifted out of the house, and on Sarah’s appearance were to be found sitting on rails or pigsty walls, or leaning in graceful attitudes against the porch. Sarah could not see them, but Simon could, and divided a scowl of dislike amongst the lot. The Thornthwaites were actually settled in the trap when Eliza came bustling after them into the yard.
It was such a different Eliza, however, that at first it looked as if the audience were to be cheated of their scene. The virulent harridan of ten minutes ago had vanished as if she had never been. This Eliza was hearty, smiling, serene, the smooth-faced, smooth-tongued mocker which Sarah detested most. Even her hair and dress, lately dishevelled by rage, were now as tidy and sleek as the fur of a well-brushed cat. She came to a halt close beside the wheel, and Sarah started when she heard her speak.
“So you’re off, are you, Sarah? Ay, well, you’ll be best at home! I reckon our Sally’s right, and you’re not yourself at all. Mind and see doctor again, first thing as ever you can. It’s a bad sign, they say, to go making up fancy tales. Folks as get telling lies is framing for softening of the brain.”
Will looked back with a frown as he hurried on to open the gate.
“We’ve had enough o’ that, missis!” he called sharply. “Just you let Sarah be!”
Mrs. Will tossed her head, but managed to preserve her compassionate air.
“Losh, master!” she reproached him loudly. “You’ve no call to speak so sharp. I’m meaning kindly enough by poor Sarah here, I’m sure! She’s welcome to tell lies till they turn her black in the face, but it isn’t healthy for her, all the same. I shouldn’t like to see poor Sarah in Garland’s Asylum, or some such spot as yon. Ay, well, we’ll be having her close at hand afore so long, and then we can do our best for her ourselves!”
Sarah started a second time when she said that, and the pigsty audience brightened and pricked its ears. Simon muttered an oath and pulled at the horse until it sidled and backed, forcing the subtle tormentor to retreat.
“You stand back, missis,” he cried angrily, waving a threatening whip, “and take your long tongue with you, or it’ll be tripping us in t’road!”
There was a burst of laughter at this show of wit, and Eliza flared instantly into open war. She raised her voice after the departing pair, stepping back heavily upon Elliman’s feet.
“You’ll have to speak different from that, Mr. Thornthet,” she called shrilly, “if you’re coming to Blindbeck to act as our hired man!”
The laughter broke out again, and then stopped, cut short. Simon, red to the ears, raised the whip violently above the horse’s back, but it was checked before it descended by Sarah’s outstretched hand.
“Bide a minute, Simon,” she said quietly. “Just hold on. What’s Eliza meaning to say by that?”
Simon looked helplessly about him, noting the interested gaping faces on all sides. “Ax me on t’road,” he said desperately, yearning to get away. “It’s time we were getting on, missis. Ax me on t’road!”
“Nay, ax him now, and ha’ done wi’ it, Sarah!” Eliza jeered, advancing again. “Or ax me if you want, and I’ll tell you mighty sharp! Likely you’ve been wondering what’s to come o’ you when you leave the farm? Ay, well, our cowman’s job is going begging at present, and I hear your master’s thinking o’ taking it on.”
There was a pause after that, in which even the pigsty audience was hushed as mice, and the fretting horse itself was suddenly still. Those nearest to Sarah heard her give a sigh, the same little sigh with which she had loosed her hold on the Parlour Dream. The next moment Simon had thankfully eased the reins, and the trap went creaking and jolting out of the still yard. …
Eliza watched it triumphantly until the very last, and then, bursting into a laugh, turned expectantly for applause. But for once her usually appreciative audience failed her of her due. They avoided her eyes and looked at their boots, or leaned over the pigsty walls and pretended a passionate interest in the pigs. The Addisons, in whom Christian charity was apt to rise and fall like a turned-on jet, murmured tepid thanks for their entertainment, and hurried away. Even the smug cousin refused to play up to Eliza for once, partly because of a latent fineness of feeling which she had hurt, but chiefly because she had trodden on his toes. Turning his back determinedly upon Mary Phyllis, he bent to whisper something in Sally’s ear. She hesitated a moment, lifting her eyes to his sobered face, and then followed him slowly towards the track across the fields.
VIII
Outside the farmyard wall Sarah again put out a hand to Simon’s arm. “Yon’s Taylor’s spot, isn’t it?” she enquired, as the cottage came up. “Just hold on a minute, and let me see.”
He obeyed, watching her nervously as she bent and peered at the house, and wondering uneasily what she was about. She knew the house well enough, both inside and out, so she could not be stopping to look at it just for that. She must be trying to form some impression of
