Maud made a slight gesture as though she would withdraw herself, and then the comfort of that motherly arm overcame her shyness. Very suddenly she let herself go into the old woman's embrace. She hid her face on the ample shoulder.
"I'm not really frightened," she whispered piteously. "But oh, I'm so tired--I'm so tired!"
"Poor lamb!" said Mrs. Wright compassionately.'
She gathered her to her bosom rocking her softly in her arms as one who soothes a hurt child, and whispering endearing words from time to time, while Maud, spent and weary, wept silently there till with the shedding of tears some measure of relief came to her aching soul.
She forgot the storm that raged around them; she forgot that Mrs. Wright was a comparative stranger to her; she forgot the passage of time and all besides in the blessed consciousness of another woman's sympathy compassing her round, sustaining, comprehending, lifting her up from the depths of despair into which she had lately sunk so low.
"There then! There! You're better now," murmured Mrs. Wright at last. "Would you like to talk a bit, darling? Or shall we just pretend as there's nothing to talk about?"
h But Maud was clinging to her, as a drowning person clings to a spar. "You're very good to me," she whispered tremulously.
It was enough for Mrs. Wright. She proceeded with boldness. "It didn't become me to take the first step, dearie, you being a lady like you are, and me only a clumsy old woman. But I've had troubles myself, and I'm not blind. You aren't well, dear; you aren't happy. I was afraid that day in the winter, and I've been much more afraid since. I was wanting to step up and see you again; but then I wasn't sure as you 'd want me. But I've thought of you often and often, and poor Jake too."
Maud shivered. "Life is horrible--horrible!" she said, and there was a quiver of passion in the words.
"Ah, dear!" Mrs. Wright held her closer. "Maybe that's because you're not taking things just as you should. No, I don't suppose as it's your fault. I wouldn't presume. But there's ways and ways of looking at things. And sometimes, when a girl is hurried into marrying, like you were, she's likely to be a bit taken aback when she comes to realize what it means. And it is then maybe that she gets a wrong impression of men and their ways which is like to interfere with all happiness. But, you know, dearie, men are only a pack of children. Any woman can manage a man if she puts her mind to it, and he'll like her the better for it too. But if once a man gets the whip-hand, and knows it, that's fatal. A spoilt child soon becomes a tyrant."