We had only just got out of the house when he drew near. I saw his massive figure in the doorway, and the big, prolific woman moved subserviently about the room.
“Hullo, Proserpine—had visitors?”
“I never axed ’em—they come in ’earin’ th’ childer cryin’. I never encouraged ’em——”
We hurried away into the night. “Ah, it’s always the woman bears the burden,” said Lettie bitterly.
“If he’d helped her—wouldn’t she have been a fine woman now—splendid? But she’s dragged to bits. Men are brutes—and marriage just gives scope to them,” said Emily.
“Oh, you wouldn’t take that as a fair sample of marriage,” replied Leslie. “Think of you and me, Minnehaha.”
“Ay.”
“Oh—I meant to tell you—what do you think of Greymede old vicarage for us?”
“It’s a lovely old place!” exclaimed Lettie, and we passed out of hearing.
We stumbled over the rough path. The moon was bright, and we stepped apprehensively on the shadows thrown from the trees, for they lay so black and substantial. Occasionally a moonbeam would trace out a suave white branch that the rabbits had gnawed quite bare in the hard winter. We came out of the woods into the full heavens. The northern sky was full of a gush of green light; in front, eclipsed Orion leaned over his bed, and the moon followed.