ey knew no other time.

And Anne would go back to her shelter, and lie there, and live through
their passion again in memory, till she fell asleep.

And when she woke she would find the sweet, sad ghost of Maisie haunting
her, coming between her and the memory of her dark ecstasy. Maisie,
utterly innocent, utterly good, trusting her, sending Jerrold back to
her because she trusted her. Only to think of Maisie gave her a fearful
sense of insecurity. She thought: If I'd loved her I could never have
done it. If I were to love her even now that would end it. We couldn't
go on. She prayed God that she might not love her.

By day the hard work of the farm stopped her thinking. And the next
night and the next dawn brought back her safety.

iv

The hay harvest was over by the last week of June, and in the first week
of July Maisie had come back.

Maisie or no Maisie, the work of the farm had to go on; and Anne felt
more than ever that it justified her. When the day of reckoning came, if
it ever did come, let her be judged by her work. Because of her love for
Jerrold here was this big estate held together, and kept going; because
of his love for her here was Jerrold, growing into a perfect farmer and
a perfect landlord; because of her he had found the one thing he was
best fitted to do; because of him she herself was valuable. Anne brought
to her work on the land a thoroughness that aimed continually at
perfection. She watched the starting of every tractor-plough and driller
as it broke fresh ground, to see that machines and men were working at
their highest pitch of efficiency. She demanded efficiency, and, on the
whole, she got it; she gave it by a sort of contagion. She wrung out of
the land the very utmost it was capable of yielding; she saw that there
was no waste of straw or hay, of grain or fertilizers; and she knew how
to take risks, spending big sums on implements and stock wherever she
saw a good chance of a return.

Jerrold learned from her this perfection. Her work stood clear for the
whole countryside to see. Nobody could say she had not done well by the
land. When she first took on the Manor Farm it had stood only in the
second class; in four years she had raised it to the first. It was now
one of the best cultivated estates in the county and famous for its
prize stock. Sir John Corbett of Underwoods, Mr. Hawtrey of Medlicote,
and Major Markham of Wyck Wold owned to an admiration for Anne Severn's
managem