POVERTY'S PRIDE

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

                                                                    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Eliza Gilbert sailed into the kitchen to see George Dobbs sitting at the table drinking tea. She felt annoyance but held her tongue.

     ‘So, you’re back from Scurlage, then,’ she said to him ‘And about time.’

     ‘I pushed the horse as fast as I dared,’ George said, standing up. ‘Horses are only human, after all.’

     ‘What is this new Rector like, then,’ she asked. She had been eaten up with curiosity since hearing about him. What would Joshua do when he knew he was ousted?

     ‘He’s a gentleman,’ George said. ‘Nothing like that blasted curate of ours.’

     Eliza felt her nostrils flare but again held her peace. She sensed it would not do to defend Joshua Tucker at this time. With the coming of the new Rector things would change in the village, and she had no idea how it would affect her. Her worry was that Joshua would become more troublesome to her.

     ‘It’s not for the likes of you to speak out,’ she snapped. ‘Now be about your business and get the trap ready to take me into the village.’

     ‘It’s already waiting,’ George said. ‘We’ll go as soon as Roz is ready.’

     ‘What?’

     At that moment Rosalind Trevellian came into the kitchen wearing a bonnet and shawl.

     ‘And who gave you permission to go into the village at this time of day, may I ask?’ Eliza challenged her sharply.

     ‘Mr Whillowby sent for me,’ Rosalind said.

     ‘Oh, did he? Well, that gentleman is out of favour in this house,’ she said. ‘So you can forget it.’

     ‘Mr Cedric asked me to go,’ Rosalind said. ‘That should be enough for you, Mrs Gilbert.’

     Eliza was affronted as the girl had the audacity to flash an angry glance at her.

     ‘I see,’ Eliza said, although she didn’t, and her ignorance of what was happening unsettled her.

     ‘Trap’s ready,’ George butted in and hurried out into the yard

     Eliza sat silent and stiff-backed during the ride, completely dismissing the girl’s presence. When they reached the village and was along side the post office, Eliza spoke.

     ‘Drop me here,’ she said. ‘And pick me up in an hour.’

     She alighted and then stood at the side of the road watching as the trap continued on. It went only a short distance before it stopped again. Rosalind Trevellian descended and to Eliza’s surprise sent into the cottage of the watchman. Eliza’s eyes narrowed. What was that little hussy was up to now?

     Eliza went into the post office and combated the nosiness of Daisy Bream without revealing anything of note. Leaving there she went to the cottage of the seamstress, Mrs Peggot, leaving behind a parcel of bed linen to be darned and patched.

     Out on the road again she saw that the trap was nowhere in sight. She pursed her lips grimly. No doubt George Dobbs was taking the opportunity of visiting the inn. Well, she would tick him off good and proper when she saw him.

     On the way to the greengrocer to leave an order for provisions she passed an opening between two cottages and was startled to hear her name called in a hoarse whisper. Affrighted, she spun around to see her son standing within the shelter of a privet hedge out of sight of the road.