uch a
difference. But a great burden had been lifted off her heart.... He was
a good chap, Lawrence, for all his queer ways--such as ud make you think
he wasn't gentry if you didn't know who his father was and his brother
had been--and no notion how to behave himself as a clergyman,
neither--anyway she hoped he'd get safe to Africa and that the niggers
wouldn't eat him ... though she'd heard of such things....

She'd do as he said, too. She'd go home and take up things where she'd
put them down. It would be hard--much harder than he thought. Perhaps he
didn't grasp all that she was doing in giving up marriage, the one thing
that could ever make her respect herself again. Well, she couldn't help
that--she must just do without respecting herself--that's all. Anything
would be better than shutting up herself and Albert together in prison,
till they hated each other. It would be very hard for her, who had
always been so proud of herself, to live without even respecting
herself. But she should have thought of that earlier. She remembered
Lawrence's words--"I will go softly all my days in the bitterness of my
soul".... Well, she'd do her best, and perhaps God would forgive her,
and then when she died she'd go to heaven, and be with Martin for ever
and ever, in spite of all the bad things she'd done....

She got out at Appledore and took the light railway to Brodnyx. She did
not feel inclined for the walk from Rye. The little train was nearly
empty, and Joanna had a carriage to herself. She settled herself
comfortably in a corner--it was good to be coming home, even as things
were. The day was very sunny and still. The blue sky was slightly
misted--a yellow haze which smelt of chaff and corn smudged together the
sky and the marsh and the distant sea. The farms with their red and
yellow roofs were like ripe apples lying in the grass.

Yes, the Marsh was the best place to live on, and the Marsh ways were
the best ways, and the man who had loved her on the Marsh was the best
man and the best lover.... She wondered what Ellen would say when she
heard she had broken off her engagement. Ellen had never thought much of
Bertie--she had thought Joanna was a fool to see such a lot in him; and
Ellen had been right--her eyes and her head were clearer than her poor
sister's.... She expected she would be home in time for tea--Ellen would
be terrible surprised to see her; if she'd had any sense she'd have sent
her a telegram.

The little