She lived in a house larger, indeed, than her needs, where one room was ever kept prepared for the occupation of her beloved Master Miles, should he chance to be in the neighbourhood. The main feature of her life indeed was a devotion to her foster-son; nothing he could do ever came amiss to her, and she had the most absolute confidence in his judgments.
Accordingly, when he and his companions arrived late one night, and abruptly informed the old lady that they must take up their abode with her for a while, it required only a word or two of explanation of the circumstances of their position to satisfy the old lady, and to cause her to set about her preparations for their accommodation.
They found but little difficulty in concealing their presence in the house. Lest an arrival had been noted, Mistress Fytch was instructed, if questioned, to speak of a visit from her nephew and niece from Taunton; but their entry into the house had been at a late hour, when the neighbours had already retired to rest, and as a matter of fact none had marked them.
They dared not venture forth save after nightfall and then with extreme caution, but, although at times the hours hung somewhat heavily on their hands, the rest and the peaceful atmosphere of the house were very welcome after the turmoil of the past week.
Barbara soon found full occupation for her time. With intent to relieve Mistress Fytch, she took into her own hands the greater part of the housework, and busied herself about parlour and kitchen with all the delight of a child engaged in a new amusement. She had certainly slight knowledge of the art of cookery, but it was never her nature to anticipate difficulties, and she applied herself to her new tasks with the same grave resolution, the same hopeful self-confidence that she was ever wont to bring to bear upon all her undertakings.
Some of her experiments certainly horrified poor Mistress Fytch, but the old lady speedily grew to love the girl, despite her whimsies, and despairing of controlling so determined an assistant, she let her have her way.
But Barbara had also another task to her hand. For Ralph, his strength exhausted by exposure and starvation, was laid low with a fever, and for two days lay delirious, dependent on her care. She nursed him with unwearying tenderness, though the duty was no light one, and she shrank in dread at his raving, which wrung her heart sorely. For ever his talk was of Barbara, Barbara his perfect woman, Barbara whom he worshipped with his heart and soul. And as she listened to his words, and learned the story of his years-long devotion, her heart grew heavy with pity and she redoubled her tenderness towards him, crying to herself that she was cruel, cruel, to have nought to give him in return.
Even when the delirium passed, and he was on the speedy road to recovery, her self-reproach, her gratitude, led her in cruel kindness still to continue her tender ministrations, and as he watched her waiting upon him, hovering over him, ever watchful to supply his wants, it seemed to him that Mistress Fytch's simple rooms were changed to a veritable paradise, and those few short days passed like a glimpse of heaven.
But for Miles Protheroe life during those days was alternate heaven and hell.
For howsoever rapturously a man may love a woman, regarding constantly her courage, her beauty or even her disdain, yet is his love made more devout when he may watch her, moving simple, gracious, sweet, about her household work. Then first is revealed to him the full influence of her nature. No haughty queen, no unapproachable goddess she, but the bright light of a man's life, the very homemaker, glorifying by the beauty of her gracious presence the humblest tasks.