Bushel was going to
do."
"Oughtn't to have been there at all? Why not? I don't believe you
know any more than this table why I was there."
"Oh yes, I do. You never tell me anything, but Mrs. Bushel told me.
You want to get them all turned out of their farms."
"Bosh! There you are again!--the pains I took the other night again
to make you comprehend what Free Trade meant. I knew you didn't
understand a word about it; and if you did understand, you wouldn't
believe me. You never take any notice of anything I say; but if Mrs.
Bushel or any other blockhead tells you anything, you believe that
directly."
Priscilla's eyes filled; she took out her handkerchief, and went
upstairs. George sat still for a while, and then followed her. He
found her sitting by the baby's cradle, her head on her hands and
sobbing. It touched him beyond measure to see how she retreated to
her child; he went to her; his anger was once more forgotten, and
once more he was reconciled with kisses and self-humiliation. The
next morning, however, as he went to the square, the conversation of
the night before returned to him. "What does it all mean?" he cried
to himself.
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