The law reports also furnished
her with a happy hunting-ground in which she often found her game.
But they were miserable months. To rise in the morning, to go through
the round of daily duty--thinking of Geoffrey; to come home wearied, and
finally to seek refuge in sleep and dreams of him--this was the sum of
them. Then there were other troubles. To begin with, things had gone
from bad to worse at the Vicarage. The tithes scarcely came in at all,
and every day their poverty pinched them closer. Had it not been for
Beatrice's salary it was difficult to see how the family could have
continued to exist. She gave it almost all to her father now, only
keeping back a very small sum for her necessary clothing and such
sundries as stamps and writing paper. Even then, Elizabeth grumbled
bitterly at her extravagance in continuing to buy a daily paper, asking
what business she had to spend sixpence a week on such a needless
luxury. But Beatrice would not make up her mind to dock the paper with
its occasional mention of Geoffrey.
Again, Owen Davies was a perpetual anxiety to her.
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