it is,' she said one day, 'the sort of husband as does for the
country doesn't do for London.'

At Great Oakhurst, where the doors were always open into the yard and
the garden, where every house was merely a covered bit of the open
space, where people were always in and out, and women never sat down,
except to their meals, or to do a little stitching or sewing, it was
really not necessary, as Mrs Caffyn observed, that husband and wife
should 'hit it so fine.' Mrs Marshall hated all the conveniences of
London. She abominated particularly the taps, and longed to be
obliged in all weathers to go out to the well and wind up the bucket.
She abominated also the dust-bin, for it was a pleasure to be
compelled--so at least she thought it now--to walk down to the muck-
heap and throw on it what the pig could not eat. Nay, she even
missed that corner of the garden against the elder-tree, where the
pig-stye was, for 'you could smell the elder-flowers there in the
spring-time, and the pig-stye wasn't as bad as the stuffy back room
in Great Ormond Street when three or four men were in it.' She did
all she could to spend her energy on her cooking and cleaning, but
'there was no satisfaction in it,' and she became much depressed,
especially after the child died. This was the main reason why Mrs
Caffyn determined to live with her. Marshall was glad she resolved
to come. His wife had her full share of the common sense he desired,
but the experiment had not altogether succeeded. He knew she was
lonely, and he was sorry for her, although he did not see how he
could mend matters. He reflected carefully, nothing had happened
which was a surprise to him, the relationship was what he had
supposed it would be, excepting that the child did not live and its
mother was a little miserable. There was nothing he would not do for
her, but he really had nothing more to offer her.