1
She was walking, with her customary air of haughty and raptleisure, across the market-place of Bursley, when she observed infront of her, at the top of Oldcastle Street, two men conversingand gesticulating vehemently, each seated alone in a dog-cart.These persons, who had met from opposite directions, were herhusband, John Stanway, the earthenware manufacturer, and DavidDain, the solicitor who practised at Hanbridge. Stanway's cob,always quicker to start than to stop, had been pulled up withdifficulty, drawing his cart just clear of the other one, so thatthe two portly and middle-aged talkers were most uncomfortablyobliged to twist their necks in order to see one another; theattitude did nothing to ease the obvious asperity of thediscussion. She thought the 2spectacle undignified andsilly; and she marvelled, as all women marvel, that men who conductthemselves so magisterially should sometimes appear so infantile.She felt glad that it was Thursday afternoon, and the shops closedand the streets empty.
Immediately John Stanway caught sight of her he said a few wordsto the lawyer in a somewhat different key, and descended from hisvehicle. As she came up to them Mr. Dain saluted her with bashfulabruptness, and her proud face broke as if by the loosing of aspell into a generous and captivating smile; Mr. Dain blushed, thevision was too much for his composure; he moved his horse forward ayard or two, and then jerked it back again, gruffly advising it tostand still. Stanway turned to her bluntly, unceremoniously, as toa creature to whom he owed nothing. She noticed once more how thewhole character of his face was changed under annoyance.
'Here, Nora!' he said, speaking with the raw anger of a man witha new-born grievance, 'run this home for me. I'm going over toHanbridge with Mr. Dain.'
'Very well,' she agreed with soothing calmness, and taking thereins she climbed up to the high driving-seat.
3'And I say, Nora—Wo-back!' he flamedo