Her sudden appearance in the kitchen interrupted the boisterous mirth which was going forward. When she inquired for Pansy Culver, there was an abashed look on the faces of those who had permitted the girl to go without inquiring whither; but Jenny Wodrow answered saucily:
‘She got into a state when I was talking about Caleb Kersey, and slipped out before any of us could say Jack Robinson.’
The silent reproof in the expression of Madge’s tender eyes had its effect even on this self-assertive damsel. Jerry Mogridge hobbled up to his young mistress.
‘I’ll find her for you, Missy,’ he said cheerily, for he was in the happy state of mind of one who has enjoyed a good meal and knows that there is a good sleep lying between him and the next day’s toil.
They went out to the yard, and Jerry, opening the door of the dairy, thrust his head into the darkness with the invocation: ‘Come out ov here, Pansy Culver; what are you doing there? Missy wants you.’ There was no answer, and after groping his way amidst cans and pails standing ready for the morning’s milk, he returned muttering: ‘She ain’t there anyhow. I’ll get the lantern, Missy, and we’ll soon find her, so being as she ha’n’t gone to her father’s.’
Whilst Jerry went for the lantern, the moon began to light the snow-covered ground, and Madge discovered Pansy in the doorway of the stable. She was leaning against the door as if support were necessary to save her from falling. Madge put her arm round the girl, and drawing her out from the shadows into the moonlight, saw that the face was white as the snow at their feet, and felt that the form was shivering with agitation more than with cold.
‘I knew it would upset you, Pansy; and intended to tell you myself, but wanted to do it when we were alone.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Missy,’ answered the girl through her chattering teeth; ‘but thank you kindly. There’s no help for it now. I’ve been the ruin of him, and standing out here, I’ve seen how wicked and cruel I’ve been to him. I knew what he was thinking about, and I might have told him not to think of it—but I liked him—I like him, and I wish they would take me in his place. They ought to take me, for it was me that drove him to it.’
‘Hush, hush, Pansy,’ said Madge with gentle firmness; ‘Caleb is innocent, and will be free in a few days. It was only some foolish business he had with Coutts Hadleigh which brought him under suspicion.’
‘Yes, yes, but it was about me that he went to speak to Mr Coutts—and Mr Coutts never said anything to me that a gentleman might not say. Only he was very kind—very kind, and I came to think of him, and—and—it was all me—all me! And you, though you didn’t mean it, showed me how wrong it was, and I went away. And if Caleb had only waited, maybe—maybe.... I don’t know right what I am saying; but I would have come to myself, and have tried to make him happy.’