People afterwards said when they talked of those summer days that Mrs
Salter had been very ‘still an’ skeared;’ and they certainly remarked
at the time that ‘she held her head so high there was no gettin’ near
to speak a word wi’ her.’ But the pre-occupation upon poor Jenny’s face
had seemed only natural after what had passed; and none thought that in
addition to her fears for her fugitive husband she might be anxious for
her boy and girl as well--_that_ was not thought of till other days had
gone, and the neighbours could speak of the ruin to which boy and girl
had come. For, although their wisdom came after the event, some threads
of doom were indeed being woven in the course of those summer days.
It was remembered afterwards, for instance, that there had been a
change in Annie, which was not such a change as might have been
expected; for she did not seem restless, disconsolate, or passionate,
as she might well have been after the event of the Rantan. She held her
head high, and looked more beautiful than before; her dark eyes were
full of a childish, glowing light; and she kept herself resolutely
apart from all her neighbours, as one who prefers to be quiet and dream
alone. To Alice, whom she met once, she whispered softly that she had
‘made up her mind, and would not be troubled now;’ and yet her
expression was not that of one who is at peace. Had she made up her
mind on the night of the Rantan, when she fled away from the misery of
her home; and were the hours of those golden summer days leading her to
an event that lay close before her now? No one knew, for she said no
word, even to her mother; but it was remembered afterwards that she had
been industrious and silent, and had bent continually over some pieces
of needlework, which she said she must finish ‘before autumn came.’ Now
and then, in the evening, she would be absent from her home, on her
return refusing obstinately to say where she had been; and once or
twice her mother found her on her bed, in convulsive, passionate
weeping which could not be accounted for. But she remained silent, as
it was her wont to be, and was busy and quiet, though there was the
strange light in her eyes; and no one who saw her pure, childish beauty
would have been easily ready to believe much evil of her. For Annie had
been educated to the ideals of her mother, which were higher than those
which most village mothers own; and although her disposition was wild
and passionate it seemed too lofty to incline easily to falls. And
yet--dare we say that any feet are safe from peril--we who are aware of
the countless snares of life?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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