They sat there—the two bereaved mothers, the two grandmothers—with, as it were, the bodies of the children waiting decision between them. Stiffly erect, with arms folded at her waist, Emma’s attitude in sitting was much the same as when she was on her feet. She kept her beady black eyes upon the battle-ground of Mrs. Clapham’s face, reading the struggle that was going on in the big woman’s tired soul. Over their heads Mrs. Tanner’s light step drew an occasional creak from an old board, and behind their backs the light that was like a sword brightened and faded but always brightened again.... They sat almost knee to knee, with the silence stretching between them that the one could not and the other dared not break, until at last it was snapped from without by the sound of a step on the stairs. The brightness of the sword dazzled Mrs. Tanner as she came to the bend, so that for the moment she could see nothing of the little kitchen. “I’ve put yon few things together, Ann Clapham,” she began briskly, lifting her hand to her eyes; and then, as she hopped to the last step, her amazed glance fell upon Emma. CHAPTER III Mrs. Tanner had to turn her back on the sword before she could finally believe her eyes. It was true, of course, that voices had reached her while she was upstairs, warning her that some other consoler had dropped in. Like enough it would be Mrs. Airey, she had said to herself, and had fully expected to see her when she came down. The sight, therefore, that actually met her gaze was simply paralysing in its effect. To find Emma Catterall inside anybody’s kitchen was sufficiently staggering in itself, but to find her seated was almost beyond belief. The strangeness of it not only startled but almost terrified Mrs. Tanner, suggesting that something inherently sinister was at work. She felt, too, the ready jealousy of those who, engaged in helping others in trouble, instinctively regard them as their property for the time being. She reminded herself, however, of Emma’s relationship to the dead Tibbie, and managed to stifle her feelings with an effort. Coming forward, she gave her a cool nod, which Emma acknowledged with a turn of her black eyes. “I didn’t know as you’d looked in, Mrs. Catterall....” In spite of herself Mrs. Tanner could hardly keep the suspicion out of her voice. “I hope you’ve said summat to comfort the poor thing.” For the first time since her unexpected entry into the cottage, a hint of her famous smile played about Emma’s lips. “Ay, I think I’ve been able to say a word,” she returned gently. “Not much, I doubt, but still—summat.”