This was all that the mother had to tell. Rhoda got up, when the tale was ended, and went quietly out of the house.
The sun had just gone down; but there was light in the west, where rosy cloud-islands floated in a golden sea. And there was a light in Rhoda’s face that gave her a new charm.
She knew, by some subtle instinct, where she should find Robert Channell. She ascended the steep, winding lane, that led to the old churchyard. How did she guess that one woman’s harshness would send him to the grave of another? How is it that women go straight to a conclusion which a man could only reach by a circuitous route?
He neither saw nor heard her coming. His head was bent over that flowery mound, and the grass deadened the sound of her feet. She had been very brave until she found herself by his side. And then all her strength and courage suddenly fled. She had no words to plead for forgiveness; she could only touch his arm with her trembling hand, and call him by the name that she had hated all these years,—
“Robert!”
There was very little said just then. The last glow was dying out of the skies, and the dews were falling on Helen’s grave. But the Lord lifted up the light of His countenance upon them, and gave them peace.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XI.