She had been out of the gate twice, with Roger, and had walked up and down the road in front of the house, but, as yet, she had not gone beyond the little garden alone.
One Dark Cloud
Upon the fair horizon of the future was one dark cloud of dread which even Doctor Conrad's positive assurance had mitigated only for a little time. Barbara knew her father and his stern, uncompromising righteousness. When the bandages were taken off and he saw the faded walls and dingy furniture, the worn rugs, and the pitiful remnant of damask at his place at the table; when he realised that his daughter had deceived him ever since she could talk at all, he must inevitably despise her, even though he tried to hide it.
Dimly, Barbara began to perceive the intangible price that is attached to the things of the spirit as well as to the material necessities of daily life. She was forced to surrender his love for her as the compensation for his sight, yet she was firmly resolved to keep, for him, the love that refused to reckon with the barrier of a grave, but triumphantly went past it to clasp the dead Beloved closer still.
A Vague Dream
Of late, she had been thinking much of her mother. Until Roger had found his father's letter, and she had received her own, upon her twenty-second birthday, she had felt no sense of loss. Constance had been a vague dream to her and little more, in spite of her father's grieving and her instinctive sympathy.
With the letters, however, had come a change. Barbara felt a certain shadowy relationship and an indefinite bereavement. She wondered how her mother had looked, what she had worn, and even how she had dressed her hair. Since her father had gone to the hospital, she had wondered more than ever, but got no satisfaction when she had once asked Aunt Miriam.
She finished the garment upon which she was working, threaded the narrow white ribbon into it, folded it in tissue paper and put it into the chest. It was the last of the second set and Eloise had ordered six. "Four more to do," thought Barbara. "I wonder whether she wants them all alike."
The afternoon shadows had begun to lengthen, and it was Saturday. It was hardly worth while to begin a new piece of work before Monday morning, especially since she wanted to ask Eloise about a new pattern. Doctor Conrad was coming down for the weekend, and probably both of them would be there late in the afternoon, or on Sunday.