an the
gratification of her vanity. The denial of what she sought, the dragging
of her schemes, the growing sense of hopelessness, had made her see just
exactly how much she wanted. She would really like to marry Alce--the
slight physical antipathy with which she had started had now
disappeared, and she felt that she would not object to him as a lover.
He was, moreover, an excellent match--better than any young Vines or
Southlands or Furneses; as his wife she would be important and
well-to-do, her triumph would be sealed, open and celebrated.... She
would moreover be free. That was the strong hidden growth that had
heaved up her flat little plans of a mere victory in tattle--if she
married she would be her own mistress, free for ever of Joanna's
tyranny. She could do what she liked with Alce--she would be able to go
where she liked, know whom she liked, wear what she liked; whereas with
Joanna all these things were ruthlessly decreed. Of course she was fond
of Jo, but she was tired of living with her--you couldn't call your soul
your own--she would never be happy till she had made herself independent
of Jo, and only marriage would do that. She was tired of sulking and
submitting--she could make a better life for herself over at Donkey
Street than she could at Ansdore. Of course if she waited she might get
somebody better, but she might have to wait a long time, and she did not
care for waiting. She was not old or patient or calculating enough to be
a really successful schemer; her plans carried her this time only as far
as a triumph over Joanna and an escape from Ansdore.

Sec.15

Certainly her triumph was a great one. Brodnyx and Pedlinge had never
expected such a thing. Their attitude had hitherto been that of the man
at the fair, who would rather distrust appearances than believe Arthur
Alce could change from Joanna Godden to her sister Ellen. It would have
been as easy to think of the sunset changing from Rye to
Court-at-Street.

There was a general opinion that Joanna had been injured--though no one
really doubted her sincerity when she said that she would never have
taken Arthur. Her evident pleasure in the wedding was considered
magnanimous--it was also a little disappointing to Ellen. Not that she
wanted Joanna to be miserable, but she would have liked her to be rather
more sensible of her sister's triumph, to regret rather more the honour
that had been taken from her. The bear's hug with which her sist