Then, too, school would begin so soon and all these little breaks would bring about the finer claims of relationship.
No one went to church on Sunday. Mrs. Crawford was not quite up to the mark, and Aunt Kate declared she could not face the curious eyes or answer a question. The Major longed to go over to Mrs. Barrington’s but some feeling of delicacy restrained him.
Lilian had come home from the lonely burial like one in a strange dream. The brief illness, the excitement of the confession, the quiet passing out of existence had transpired so rapidly that she could hardly make it real. She almost expected to find Mrs. Boyd lying there on the bed when she entered the room. She felt that Mrs. Boyd had never taken root at Mount Morris; she smiled sadly thinking of Mrs. Dane’s suspicions that there was some secret between them, that she, Lilian, was afraid would come to light. But she had never in her wildest moments dreamed of the truth. Mrs. Boyd had all the limitation of a commonplace nature, sweet, devoted, with no lofty aspirations. The refinements of Barrington House wore upon her. She did try, for Lilian’s sake, to adapt herself to some of them but the effort was plainly visible to practiced eyes. If she had lived—but then the confession would hardly have been made. For, with all the unlikeness, Lilian had never suspected the truth.
Oh, why had not God given this poor starved life its rightful surroundings? If Mrs. Boyd had lived! If there had been a number of merry, satisfied children going cheerfully to work in shops and factories when school days were over, having lovers, marrying and repeating their mother’s life! For the world was full of ordinary happy people with no high ideals. Was there something in heredity?
No, she could not have been content with that destiny. She must have worked and striven for a higher round, for some intellectual advancement. Yet, how many of these girls at school really cared for it with all their advantages? It was not mere money that inspired one, and she almost wished she were not going in that upper atmosphere.
CHAPTER XIV
GOING OUT OF THE OLD LIFE
Lilian had seen very little of her friend, Miss Trenham, through the week, though every day she had been the recipient of a note of sympathy and affection. She came in on Saturday afternoon.