“But where could she carry her to?”
“I don’t like her to touch the child; she is not clean.”
Time advanced. It seemed to stand still only with Crazy Jane, who had settled into one fixed type of face and figure that never altered; and no one looking at her could guess her age. Her face was childlike, so simple; but her figure was too formed for that of a child. Her black hair showed no trace of change. In spite of the many vexations occasioned her by Mrs. Thacker, she remained in the cottage. The miller’s wife went to the parish guardians to complain, and urge that the creature should be removed to the Union. She went to the police, to complain that the girl was a menace to herself and the child. She visited the village doctor, to insist that Jane was mad, and ought to be in an asylum; she endeavoured to incite the rector to take steps to get her put into some charitable institution; she had repeated squabbles with her husband—all in vain.
Time advanced, and when little Mabel, his child, was twelve years old, Crazy Jane was still in the cottage unmolested. One winter’s day, Mabel had been sent over the downs, a walk of three miles, to her grandmother’s house, the mother of Mrs. Thacker. It was the old lady’s birthday, and the child had gone with congratulations and a present from the miller’s wife.
The day had been warm and fine, but towards afternoon there ensued a sudden change, and unexpectedly the wind shifted to the north-east, with black and threatening clouds, and there fell a blinding, dense snow.
A little uneasiness was felt by James and his wife about the child, but not much, for they concluded that Mabel had been detained by her grandmother. “Surely,” said Mrs. Thacker, “my mother would never let the child start when there was a threat of a change.”
“But the threat came with the change, at once; no one could have looked for it.”
“If that be the case, you or some one had better go to my mother’s and inquire.”
Jim Thacker thought so as well. He drew on his thick coat, tied a kerchief over his head to hold on his cap, for the wind on the downs blew a gale, and started.
Three hours later he returned, covered with snow.