Bessy stilled her rocking to gaze after her.

‘I wonder if there are many folk like her down South. She’s like a breath of country air, somehow. She freshens me up above a bit. Who’d ha’ thought that face — as bright and as strong as the angel I dream of — could have known the sorrow she speaks on? I wonder how she’ll sin. All on us must sin. I think a deal on her, for sure. But father does the like, I see. And Mary even. It’s not often hoo’s stirred up to notice much.’

‘My heart revolts within me, and two voices

Make themselves audible within my bosom.’

On Margaret’s return home she found two letters on the table: one was a note for her mother — the other, which had come by the post, was evidently from her Aunt Shaw — covered with foreign post-marks — thin, silvery, and rustling. She took up the other, and was examining it, when her father came in suddenly:

‘So your mother is tired, and gone to bed early! I’m afraid, such a thundery day was not the best in the world for the doctor to see her. What did he say? Dixon tells me he spoke to you about her.’

Margaret hesitated. Her father’s looks became more grave and anxious:

‘He does not think her seriously ill?’

(Editor：health)