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Nor did the starched crackling nurse, who turned Joanna out of the room and exasperatingly spoke of Martin as "my patient." Joanna had lunch with Sir Harry, who in the stress of anxiety was turning into something very like a father, and afterwards drove off in her trap to Rye, having forgotten all about the Honeychild errand. She went to the fruiterers, and ordered grapes and peaches.
"Not Socknersh, but I ... who is the man, then?" "Well, it äun't no secret from anyone but you, Miss Joanna, so I döan't mind telling you as my boy is Peter Relf, their looker at Old Honeychild.
Their looker's come over from Old Honeychild, asking for the place, though he was sitting in the Crown at Lydd only yesterday, as Sam Broadhurst told me, saying as it was a shame to get shut of Fuller like that, and as how Joanna deserved never to see another looker again in her life." "Which of the lot d'you think she'll take?" asked Godfrey. "I dunno. How should I say?
Everybody knew that she had paid Dick Socknersh thirty shillings for the two weeks that he was out of work after leaving her before he went as cattleman to an inland farm and she had found the money for Martha Tilden's wedding, and for her lying-in a month afterwards, and some time later she had helped Peter Relf with ready cash to settle his debts and move himself and his wife and baby to West Wittering, where he had the offer of a place with three shillings a week more than they gave at Honeychild.
We've bin walking out ever sinst the day he came after your pläace as looker here, and we'd be married now if he hadn't his old mother and dad to keep, and got into some nasty silly trouble wud them fellers wot put money on horses they've never seen.... He döan't get more'n fifteen bob a week at Honeychild, and he can't keep the old folk on less than eight, them being always filling themselves with doctor's stuff...."
She could go to Chichester, where Martha Relf, the girl who had been with her when she first took over Ansdore and had behaved so wickedly with the looker at Honeychild, now kept furnished rooms as a respectable widow.
She settled with none, but told each that she would write. She spent the evening thinking them over. No doubt Peter Relf from Honeychild was the best man the oldest and most experienced but on the other hand he wanted the most money, and probably also his own way. After the disastrous precedent of Fuller, Joanna wasn't going to have another looker who thought he knew better than she did.
Ellen on her part resented the way Joanna still made use of him, sending him to run errands and make inquiries for her just as she used in the old days before his marriage. "Arthur, I hear there's some good pigs going at Honeychild auction I can't miss market at Lydd, but you might call round and have a look for me."
You go now and ask Grace Wickens, my gal, to give you a cup of hot cocoa." Young Socknersh went, stooping his shock-head still lower as he passed under the worn oak lintel of the kitchen door. Joanna interviewed the shepherd from Honeychild, a man from Slinches, another from Anvil Green inland, and one from Chilleye, on Pevensey marsh beyond Marlingate.
"The day's warm and maybe he won't hurt if he drives on with me to Honeychild" the thought of him there beside her was so strong that she could almost feel his hand lying pressed between her arm and her heart. But when she came to the house she found only Sir Harry, prowling in the hall. "I'm glad you've come, Joanna. I'm anxious about Martin." "What's the matter? What did the doctor say?"
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