"Such a pity," mused the old lady. "And Prue remembers him still, I know. She has never really forgotten."
If it did not mean disappointment to Prue, it might mean to Mrs. Valentine the loss of her daughter. That she could bear, for her child's sake; so that only it might mean Prue's happiness. Yet what if, for Prue, the best thing which could happen should be the denial of earthly happiness? Or what if that which seemed to promise happiness should mean life-long sorrow?
"After all, we're but blind creatures," murmured Mrs. Valentine, mechanically knitting, while she glanced backwards upon certain passages in her own early life. "If I had been allowed to choose for myself, I should have had a very different story. Not a happy one, either. I couldn't guess then. And now I'm wanting to choose again for Prue . . . Perhaps not to choose altogether—only to wish we had not come to live just here . . . Yet if that is the very thing God meant for her? How do I know? We didn't come—knowing—and perhaps He has just guided us to this very spot."
They had not yet seen Mr. Kelly. On the day before their arrival, he had gone off for his annual holiday; and the exact date of his expected return was not known to them. Still, it would be soon; and Prue must see him. Mr. Valentine had left his card at the Vicarage, and Mr. Kelly would therefore know where they were. "And then—" sighed Mrs. Valentine almost audibly. "And then—"
She looked up, to find Prue near at hand; Prue, with a faint colour in her cheeks, a faint indefinable glow and brightness over her sometimes too impassive face. It was like a dim imprisoned light, shining outward from within. "If he were to see Prue now, he would think her as taking as ever," Mrs. Valentine thought. She, like Prue, always believed that Mr. Kelly had cared, and that some hindrance had come between.
"What was that sigh for, mother?"
"Did I sigh, my dear?"
Prue sat down, unoccupied; a rare state of things. Her thoughts were too busy to allow the hands to work.
"No letter yet from Lettice," she said, becoming aware of a solicitous glance. Lettice had not been the subject of her cogitations.
"How long is it since you heard?"