“I’d sooner keep my horses, thank you,” said Ben, relieved at having something to say at last. “Give me a horse-ploughed field, even if it does take twice the labour.”
“But you’ll be getting a tractor soon, won’t you? That’s another idea altogether, and you’ll never find horses to beat that.”
Thus talking of machinery the three of them went to the door, and said goodbye under cover of argument.
“You’ll see me again before long,” cried Gervase, as he drove off.
“Will you be able to write to us?”
“Of course I will—look out for a letter in a day or two.”
With hideous grindings, explosions and plaints, the lorry went off down the drive. As it disappeared between the hedgerows, Jenny felt her heart contract in a pang of helpless pity.
“Oh, Ben ... he’s so young—and he’s never had anything.”
She would have cried, but her husband’s arm slipped round her, drawing her back into the darkening house.