Anne Severn and the Fieldings

been all the da

en all the day, m

ssed. It was Augu

he sat out on the terr

d out to them throu

Grandpapa Everitt wanted her more than Grandmamma Severn, who had Aunt Emily; so Anne had stayed with him all that time. She had spent it learning to farm and looking after Grandpapa on his bad days. For the last year of hi

"Oh" and "Really"? in the wrong places. She never could listen to you for long together, and this afternoon she was evidently

sweetheart, mother

heart and I fain

f Jerrold who was not there. He was staying in Yorkshire with some friends of his,

e my bed

ow. To-

he Durhams

nt official. He'll be useful to Jerrold if he gets a job out there. They're goin

Durham. But to-morrow

leave your lover

eave your lover

hang her

her, mother, ma

y heart and I fai

l, Colin, for Goodness

n sang i

e to ha

he'd known all the wic

tle Co

im the best

like my laughing boy b

a dismal son

d to say Colin wa

rold. Ever since he was born. He never cried

Col-

l ever say, 'Poor Jerrol

me world it's people

ey be? Don't look at

tell Pinkney to take all those tea-things off

highest field. Jerrold had come back. He and Anne sat

rees like a comb; long steep groins packed with tree-tops; raking necks hog-maned with stiff plantations. Slopes that spread out fan-wise, opened

ose fitted; emerald green of the turnips; yellow of the charlock lifted high and clear; red brown and pink and purpl

down below them in long ridges like waves. On the right the bright canary colou

Yorkshir

't think what there is about it t

ys be happy, Je

eer, uncanny feeling that y

othing on earth that gets yo

her nose and sn

untry suddenly for th

dn't see it properly. It takes ages

e could feel him med

ould feel like seeing each

now. Why, we shouldn't remember any of

e first time. She wondered wheth

ght be rather stunning

ith a face I rather liked. I suppose I should like

would be like not knowi

ou can't

anything at all ... Of course,

ot

h other and

ve it both wa

nd I don't half know you. We might both do anythin

ort of

ting part of it-

u could, Anne

I get out

really

Daddy may send

here. Then we'll

e Durham be

t I hope not ... Poor little Mai

he li

think of her as little. O

h other, laughing. As he laughed his eyes took

black-brown eyes shining and darkening and shining under the long black brushes of her eyebrows. Even her nose expressed movement, a sort of rhythm. It rose in a slender arch, raked straight forward, dipped delicately and rose again in a delicately questing tilt. This tilt had the delightful air of catc

ld in, prisoned in the smooth, tight muscles. His eyes showed the colour of dark hyacinths, set in his clear, sun-brown

when she looked at him she had the queer feeling that she saw

her face as he knew his mother's face or C

d he couldn't find it. He wanted to be in love with Anne and he wasn't. She was too near him, too much a part of him, too well-known,

ve seen her suddenl

i

he terrace, following her abrupt moves from the sun into the shade and back again; or sitting for hours with her in the big darkened bedroom when Ad

ignored you and the next she came humbly and begged for your caresses; she was dependent, like a child, on your affection. Anne thought that pathetic. And there was always her fascination. That was absolute; above logic and morality, irrefutable as t

rable, Major Markham of Wyck Wold and Mr. Hawtrey of Medlicote, who admired her, were perfect dears, Sir John Corbett of Underwoods, who didn't, wa

simply part of the blessed state of being at Wyck-on-the-Hill. Enough that Auntie Adeline was there where Uncle Robert an

en was like a room shut in by the clipped yew walls, and open to the s

irthday. He sat in the middle of the path, on his haunches, his forelegs straight

h you darlin

e butterfly flickered among the blue larkspurs; when Nicky saw it he danced on his hind legs, clapping his forepaws as he tried to catch it. But the butterf

n't listen to her An

l the butterflies and the dicky-birds and th

the cat?" said Adeline. "He doe

the words, he says, but

tiful of all the pus

away on that absurd animal, for all

what I put in. He ex

do

him he's a beautiful pussy the minute he comes into my room. He creeps away under the washstand and broods. We take these darling things and give them lit

ll you have a child.

ld's every bit

iculous pair,

your legs, you'd love

a and Benger's food. Jerrold said it was only indigestion and he'd be all right in a day or two. But you could see by the

rrold, to

ld wouldn

show Jerrold the prize stock and what heifers they could breed from next y

. And he had kept on telling Jerrold what crops were to be sown after the whea

s. You'll have the devil of a job." He spoke as though Jerrold had the

They sat down to rest under the beech-trees at the top. They looked at the landscape, the

country," said Uncle Robert as

up by the horrid town. Grandpapa sold a lot of it for building. I wish I could sell t

have the Barrow Farm when old Sutton dies. He can't last long.

diffe

he soil's hard. And in some you've got to plough across the sun because of the slope of the

My dear father, I

nd you, Un

tell Barker to remember," h

be there. And he had said that Sutton wouldn't last long. Anne

in the library, drink

aid, "I'm sure Un

stion. He'll be as right