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Updated: June 17, 2025
There were no hop-gardens, as on the farms inland, no white-cowled oasts, and scarcely more than twelve acres under the plough. Three hundred acres of pasture spread round Ansdore, dappled over with the big Kent sheep the road from Pedlinge to Brodnyx went through them, curling and looping and doubling to the demands of the dykes.
Ansdore was a manor now the largest estate not only in Brodnyx and Pedlinge, but on Walland Marsh; indeed the whole of the Three Marshes had little to beat it with. Moreover, Ellen was beginning to get her own way in the house her bedroom was no longer a compulsory bower of roses, but softly cream-coloured and purple-hung.
And I give, devise and bequeath the residue of my property, comprising the freehold farm of Little Ansdore, in the parish of Pedlinge, Sussex, with all lands and live and dead stock pertaining thereto to my daughter Joanna Mary Godden. And I appoint the said Joanna Mary Godden sole executrix of this my will."
There was also a two-decker pulpit at the east end and over the dim little altar hung an escutcheon of Royal George the lion and the unicorn fighting for the crown amid much scroll-work. Like most churches on the Marsh it was much too big for its parish, and if the entire population of Brodnyx and Pedlinge had flocked into it, it would not have been full.
Though she would have preferred the humblest seat in a drawing-room to the place of honour in a farm-house kitchen, she found a certain pleasure in impressing the rude inhabitants of Brodnyx and Pedlinge with her breeding and taste. She accepted invitations to "drop in after church," or to take tea, and scratched up rather uncertain friendships with the sisters of the boys who admired her.
"Reckon she thinks the old Squire ud like to marry her," said Alce, "I'd be glad if I thought so well of him." "He can't marry her, seeing as she's your wife." "If we were divorced, she wouldn't be." "She would. You were made man and wife in Pedlinge church, as I saw with my own eyes, and I'll never believe as what was done then can be undone just by having some stuff written in the papers."
They were walking now along the Pedlinge road, and the whole Marsh, so broad and simple, seemed to join in her rebuke of him. She saw his contrite look, and repented of her sharpness. "Come along home and have a bit of our Christmas dinner." Martin stuttered he had not expected such an invitation, and it alarmed him.
Edward Huxtable had done his best to convince her that her presence was unnecessary, but she did not trust either him or the excellent counsel he had engaged. She had made up her mind to attend in person, and look after him properly. The attitude of Brodnyx and Pedlinge towards this new crisis in Joanna Godden's life was at first uncertain.
Pratt had been drama, the final scene of her importance; for it was now her task to appoint his successor in the living of Brodnyx with Pedlinge. Ever since she had found out that she could not get rid of Mr.
Joanna was terrified lest he should begin to talk of Martin, so after she had conformed to local etiquette by inquiring after his health and abusing the weather, she offered him the living of Brodnyx with Pedlinge and a slice of cake almost in the same breath. She was surprised and a little hurt when he refused the former.
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