“’T was me ’usband planted it, ma’am, years ago. We watched ’en and pruned ’en and tended ’en like a child we did––an’ now to be told ’er ain’t mine!”
“You’re forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think,” said Mrs. de Tracy. It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman’s eyes; all she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel ground belonged to the owner of the ground.
“But ma’am, ’t is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only yesterday I says to the young lady––Miss Cynthia’s young lady––I 226 says, ‘Dear knows how ’t would be with me without I had the plum tree.’”
“I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs to Stoke Revel.”
“Then ma’am, you’ll be ’lowing me something for it surely?”
“No,” said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, “you have no legal claim to compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I should have to do it in many others.”
There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.
“When must I be goin’ then, ma’am?” she asked meekly.
Mrs. de Tracy considered. “The transfer 227 of land from one person to another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Elizabeth simply, and added, “The plum tree blossoms ’ul be over by that time.”