“The end of it will be we shall all have to turn out and become servants,” Marion used to say.
That seemed a terrible thing. They had not been brought up to think that a servant is as good or as bad as a duchess. But then—who ever is?
And so the time dragged on.
After a time their father began to go regularly to town each morning, and things at home began to look a bit brighter.
It’s wonderful what a change a little money can make after absolutely none; one feels one has a right to live in the world where otherwise one would be far better out of it.
Next, the greatest thing was that the farmer was able to buy a new suit and a new hat. He looked quite a gentleman again and was once more able to attend the church.
Still, though the cloud had lifted it had not by any means dispersed; only they had become so accustomed to the deep gloom that this partial lift seemed like the bright sunshine.
CHAPTER VI
In the front bedroom the gas had been lit and lowered. The objects in the room showed obscurely, till suddenly there flashed into it three lights—one purest white, one blending every colour of the rainbow, one brilliant red—but after the first clear flash more dusky.
Plucritus leant his hand upon the wall and looked upon a picture. It was quite a small one—a simple print—but when the glowing light around him shone on it, it seemed to gain life and size out of all proportion to the room.