The open ill-feeling was, however, all on Tom's side. The others had
suffered him at closer quarters the greater part of their lives. It was
to them a mighty relief to be boarded off from him, and to feel free at
last from his unwelcome incursions.

He never spoke to any of them, and when they passed one another on their
various farm duties a black look and a muttered curse was his only
greeting.

By means of what fairy tales concerning himself, or his position, or
Sark, he had induced the lively-eyed Julie to marry him, we may not
know. But Mrs. Tom very soon let it be known that she considered herself
woefully misled, and quite thrown away upon such a place as Sark, and
still more so upon this _ultima thule_ of Little Sark, which she volubly
asserted was the very last place le bon Dieu had made, and the condition
in which it was left did Him little credit.

She, at all events, showed no disinclination to chat with her
neighbours. Very much the contrary. None of them could pass within range
of her eyes and tongue without a greeting and an invitation to talk.

"Tiens donc, Nancie, ma petite!" she would cry, at sight of Nance. "What
a hurry you are in. It is hurry and scurry and bustle from morning till
night with you over there. The hens? Let them wait, ma garche, 'twill
strengthen their legs to scratch a bit, and 'twill enlighten your mind
to hear about Guernsey and Granville. Oh the beautiful country! Mon
Dieu, if only I were back there!"

They all--except, perhaps, Grannie--felt for her--lonely in a strange