[[1]] Fool.
CHAPTER XIII.
DOUBTS AND FEARS.
For some time after these events, a season of outward calm seemed to reign over the Mishteer's household. Gwladys had taken her place in the daily routine of life with courage and patience, and, leaning upon Mari Vone's strength of character, kept up the role of happy wife! She executed all her small duties with unswerving exactitude, going out of her way to carry out the most trivial details; every wifely duty was performed with apparently cheerful alacrity, and her demeanour was perfect in its simulation of domestic happiness. She almost deceived herself, but there were moments when the gnawing giant of unrest within her threatened to overwhelm her new-born strength and earnestness of purpose. She fought hard, and gained comparative peace. At evening, when Mari left her, the long tremulous pressure of her embrace alone expressed her gratitude; but her friend knew well the sunken rocks that underlay the seemingly smooth current of life under Hugh Morgan's roof.
Truth to tell, the even flow of her own life had been much disturbed of late, and though she still attended to all her domestic duties with the same stately calmness, it was not without a feeling of sore trouble that she observed the change in Hugh's manner. Not only to her, but to all around him, he appeared colder and more formal, much absorbed in his own thoughts.
"Business, merch i!" he would explain sometimes, when, with a serious wistfulness, Gwladys timidly rallied him.
Mari had again fallen into her old habit of leaving the house before Hugh returned from the sail-shed in the evening, and as she always went home before noon to prepare her uncle's cawl, many days went by without her seeing Hugh.
"Thou must stand alone now, Gwladys fâch," she said one day, when her friend demurred to her leaving her so early; "our house wants a thorough clean-up. I must white-wash the stone at the garden gate, and put some fresh red paint at the back of the big chimney, the smoke has blackened it so."
"Yes, I suppose I must," said Gwladys, "and I shall have Hugh home soon to cheer me up—I will be bright and nice, as thou art! I have learnt a great deal in the last few weeks, and it has been all through thee, Mari fâch! only, Mari," throwing away the stockings which she was knitting, and clasping her knees, and looking up into her face, if with less misery in her eyes, still with a look of troubled thought, "only, I wish I was not walking along my path so blindfolded. I dare not look to the right or left, but I keep straight on, as thou hast advised me—to try and make Hugh happy! try and make Hugh happy! Nothing else in my life, Mari; the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning, it is my determination and my wish and my prayer—and he is worthy of it all! I am beginning to feel it, Mari—but will I ever be worthy of him?"
"Yes, yes," said her friend, "a brighter day will dawn for us all; we must remind each other of that when the clouds are hanging low."