Just at the last she detained her for a moment to say with an effort that was plainly no light one, "Juliet, don't forget I am here if—if you ever need a friend!"
And then Juliet surprised her by a sudden, close embrace and a low-spoken, "I shall never forget you—or your goodness to me."
But a second later she was gone, and Vera was left to wonder.
As for Juliet, she hastened away as one in a fever to escape, yet before she reached the end of the avenue her feet moved as if weighted with chains.
A mist was creeping up from the sea and through it there came the long call of a distant syren. The waves were no longer roaring along the shore. The sound of them came muffled and vague, and she knew that the storm had gone down.
There was something very desolate in that atmosphere of dimmed sight and muted sound. It was barely sunset, but the chill of the dying year was in the air. The thought came to her, suddenly and very poignantly, of that wonderful night of spring, when she had first wandered along the cliff with the scent of the gorse-bushes rising like incense all around her, when she had first heard that magic, flute-like call of youth and love. A deep and passionate emotion filled and overfilled her heart with the memory. As she went up the little path to the school-house, her face was wet with tears.
Dick had not returned, and she went into the little dining-room and busied herself with laying the cloth for supper. Their only indoor servant—a young village girl—was out that evening, but she could hear Mrs. Rickett who often came up to help moving about the kitchen. She did not feel in the mood for the good woman's chatter and delayed going in her direction as long as possible.
So it came about that, pausing for a few moments at the window before doing so, she heard the click of the gate and saw the old postman coming up the path.
He moved slowly and with some difficulty, being heavily laden as well as bowed with age and rheumatism. She went quickly to the outer door, and, accompanied by the growling Columbus, moved to meet him.
"Evening, ma'am! Here's a parcel for you!" the old man said. "It's books, and it's all come to bits, but I don't think as I've dropped any of 'em. You'd best let me bring 'em straight in for I'm all fixed up with 'em now, and they'll only scatter if you tries to take 'em."