A half-smile flickered round her mouth as she spoke.
“Things do seem to get better as one goes on. Sometimes earth grows less and hopes of heaven get brighter, and then troubles don’t matter so much. Perhaps my child will learn to love me yet—by-and-by. God knows how I thirst and pray for that! But it don’t do to snatch at what one wants before the right time.”
“No, my dear,” Jervis answered, in a grave voice.
The window looked out upon a large yard which opened by means of two heavy wooden doors upon a muddy lane. At the present moment nobody was in the yard, and the wooden doors were shut.
As Marian gazed dreamily, one of the doors began to stir in a slow and uncertain fashion, as if moved by unaccustomed fingers. It was pushed gradually open, and a girlish figure entered—a slender, well-dressed figure, stepping with a somewhat gingerly and reluctant air, as if not particularly gratified to be there.
Marian’s loosely folded hands became locked with a tight clasp, and her absent gaze changed into a fixed stare.
“Why, Polly, what’s the matter? Do you know that young lady?” asked her brother.
Marian showed no signs of having heard the question. She seemed almost to have lost consciousness of her whereabouts.
“I wonder who it is, and what she wants,” Jervis said again, just as Hannah came bustling into the kitchen, with tucked-up sleeves, pinned-up skirts, and floury hands. “She looks puzzled where to turn. Perhaps I’d better go—”
“Go where?” demanded Hannah shortly. “Somebody in the yard? Oh, I see! Why, it’s Mr. Rutherford’s daughter. What on earth does she want here, I should like to know? We don’t supply the Hall with milk now—more shame that we don’t. I never did like that Mrs. Rutherford, coming and turning everything upside down, with her fussy ways, as soon as ever she was married. I’m not going to begin sending again now, after all these years, so she needn’t think it. Shouldn’t wonder if Miss Rutherford has come for that, and I shall just say no. Well, she is finding her way to the door at last. One would think she’d got no eyes. Polly’ll have to go and answer the bell, for Betsy’s upstairs.”