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"Who are they?" "Who should they be?" And Bainton's rugged features expressed a sedate mingling of the shrewd and the contemptnous that was quite amazing. "Worn't you expectin' distinguished visitors some day this week, sir?" "I know!" exclaimed Walden quickly; "Sir Morton Pippitt and his guests have come to 'inspect' the church!"
He enjoyed, however, the greatest unpopularity of any man in the neighbourhood, which was some small comfort to those who believed in the laws of compensation and justice. Bainton was his particular enemy for one, and Bainton's master, John Walden, for another.
"Whist whist! be quiet, be quiet!" said a hoarse trembling voice which it was difficult to recognise as Bainton's; "For the Lord's sake, don't make that noise, gel! Think o' Passon! do'ee think o' Passon! We must break it to 'im gently like " But the hysterical sobbing broke out again and drowned all utterance. And still Walden stood, listening. A curious rigidity affected his nerves.
He moved a step or two, then again turned: "I shall want you later on in the orchard, the grass there needs attending to." A slow grin pervaded Bainton's countenance. "Ye minds me of the 'Oly Scripter, Passon, ye does reely now!" he said "Wi' all yer different orders an' idees, y'are behavin' to me like the very moral o' the livin' Wurrd!" Walden looked amused. "How do you make that out?"
She has been thrown but she is not dead! Not dead. Of course not! She could not be!" As he spoke, he pushed aside Bainton's appealing hand gently yet firmly and walked out bareheaded like a man in a dream to meet the little ghost-like procession that was now approaching him nearly.
And nodding darkly as one who could say much an' she would, the worthy woman ambled away. Scraps of information, such as this talk of Mrs. Spruce's, reached Bainton's ears from time to time in a disjointed and desultory manner and moved him to profound cogitation. He was not quite sure now whether, after all, his liking for Miss Vancourt had not been greatly misplaced.
Maryllia took a glass of port wine from the tray which Primmins handed to her, and gave it herself to old Josey. Her mind had entirely grasped the situation, despite the prolix nature of Bainton's discourse. A group of historic old trees were to be felled by the agent's orders at six o'clock the next morning unless she prevented it. That was the sum total of the argument.
There's a better man than any Dook close by an' it's 'im she's goin' to 'ave an' nobody else, an' it's Passon Walden, sez she, an' with that we all gives a big shout, an' she busts out cryin' an' laughin' together, an' we all doos the same like the nesh fools we are when a bit o' news pleases us like, an' an' " Here Bainton's voice grew rather husky and tremulous as he proceeded "so of course the news went right through the village two minutes arterwards.
He felt himself now in a manner debased by having had to listen with enforced patience to Bainton's rambling account of the gossip going on in the neighbourhood, and despite that worthy servitor's disquisition on the subject, he could not imagine how it had arisen, unless his quarrel with Putwood Leveson were the cause. It was all so sudden and unlooked for!
He was just about to take the punting pole in hand, when Bainton's figure suddenly emerged from the shrubbery. "Off on the wild wave, Passon, are ye?" he observed, "Well, it's a fine day for it! M'appen you ain't seen the corpses of four rats anywhere around? No? Then I 'spect their lovin' relations must ha' been an' ate 'em up, which may be their pertikler way of doin' funerals.
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