th glass doors. The carpet was purple, without any
pattern on it, and the cushions were purple and black. For several days
those black cushions were the talk of the Woolpack bar and every farm.
It reminded Joanna a little of the frenzy that had greeted the first
appearance of her yellow waggons, and for the first time she felt a
little jealous of Ellen.

She sometimes, too, had moments of depression at the thought of losing
her sister, of being once more alone at Ansdore, but having made up her
mind that Ellen was to marry Arthur Alce, she was anxious to carry
through the scheme as quickly and magnificently as possible. The wedding
was fixed for May, and was to be the most wonderful wedding in the
experience of the three marshes of Walland, Dunge and Romney. For a
month Joanna's trap spanked daily along the Straight Mile, taking her
and Ellen either into Rye to the confectioner's--for Joanna had too true
a local instinct to do as her sister wanted and order the cake from
London--or to the station for Folkestone where the clothes for both
sisters were being bought. They had many a squabble over the
clothes--Ellen pleaded passionately for the soft, silken undergarments
in the shop windows, for the little lace-trimmed drawers and chemises
... it was cruel and bigoted of Joanna to buy yards and yards of calico
for nightgowns and "petticoat bodies," with trimmings of untearable
embroidery. It was also painful to be obliged to wear a saxe-blue
going-away dress when she wanted an olive green, but Ellen reflected
that she was submitting for the last time, and anyhow she was spared the
worst by the fact that the wedding-gown must be white--not much scope
for Joanna there.

Sec.16

The day before the wedding Joanna felt unusually nervous and restless.
The preparations had been carried through so vigorously that everything
was ready--there was nothing to do, no finishing touches, and into her
mind came a sudden blank and alarm. All that evening she was unable to
settle down either to work or rest. Ellen had gone to bed early,
convinced of the good effect of sleep on her complexion, and Joanna
prowled unhappily from room to room, glancing about mechanically for
dust which she knew could not be there ... the farm was just a
collection of gleaming surfaces and crackling chintzes and gay, dashing
colours. Everything was as she wished it, yet did not please her.

She went into her room. On the little spare bed which had once