Very frequently, however, this tearful mood gave place to indignation against her friends in general, and Agnes in particular. For she still held steadily to the opinion that all the trouble had arisen from her selfishness and inability to remember any one's desires but her own. And so, in plaintive or passionate wandering from one wrong to another, she passed some very miserable days. Finally, Neil persuaded her to go and see Agnes. He said, "Even the walk may do you good; and Agnes is certain to have some comforting words to say."
Maria doubted both assertions. She could not see what good it could do her to go from one wretched house to another even more wretched, and Neil's assurances that John Bradley was better and able to go to his shop did not give her any more eager desire to try the suggested change. Yet to please Neil she went, though very reluctantly; and Madame sympathized with this reluctance. She thought it was Agnes Bradley's place to come and make some acknowledgment of the sorrow and loss her family had brought upon the Semples; and she recalled the innate aversion the Elder had always felt for the Bradley family.
"The soul kens which way trouble can come," she said. "But what is the good o' its warnings? Nobody heeds them."
"I never heard any warning, grandmother."
"There's nane so deaf as those who won't hear; but go your ways to your friend Agnes! I'll warrant she would rather you would bide at hame."
The morning was cold and damp and inexpressibly depressing, but Maria was in that mood which defies anything to be of consequence. She put on her hat and cloak and walked silently by her uncle's side until they came to the Bradley cottage. All the prettiness of its summer and autumn surroundings was blighted or dead; the door shut, the window covered, the whole place infected by the sorrow which had visited it. Agnes opened the door. She was wan and looked physically ill and weary, but she smiled brightly at her visitor, and kissed her as she crossed the threshold.
"My father has been very ill, Maria, or I should have been to see you before this," she said; "but he has gone to the shop this morning. I fear he ought not."
"My grandfather has been very ill and is still unable to leave his room," replied Maria. "My dear grandmother also! As for myself—but that is of little importance, only I must say that it has been a dreadful thing to happen to us, a cruel thing!"
"It was a wrong thing to begin with. That is where all the trouble sprang from. I see it now Maria."
"Of course! You ought not to have deceived your father, Agnes."