The striking of matches came from an adjacent room, and, when the light flared up, the girl found herself looking into a flagged kitchen from which emanated the faint warmth of a half-dead fire. The woman who had admitted them was bending over the lamp she was lighting, with its chimney, which she had taken off, in her hand; she replaced it, screwing up the wick, and turned to Heber.
Her expression as she caught sight of the girl behind him was singular, and she neither came forward nor spoke a word, but stood looking at the shepherd, her reddish hair taking a redder glow from the lamp. The colour ran up to her face and remained in a bright spot on each of her high cheek-bones. Faint lines about her mouth and jaw showed that she had passed her freshest youth, though her full figure and unfaded eyes held all the attraction of womanhood in the mid-thirties. She had hurried on a few clothes, but her bodice was carelessly fastened and strained across her full bosom. When she turned her attention to Catherine she seemed to be looking down at her from a height.
“Here’s my girl, Catherine Dennis,” said Heber shortly. “Ye’ll not refuse her a bed to-night, Susannah.”
There was a tentative ring through his words which Catherine had not heard before.
“There’s no bed but mine,” said the other.
“She’s dead tired,” added Heber. “Where’s father?”
“Asleep,” answered Susannah. “It’s nigh on morning.”
Without more ado he turned, leaving the women together, and mounted the stair outside the kitchen door.
The elder of the two pushed forward a chair with grudging hospitality and motioned to the unexpected guest to take it. Catherine drew near to what warmth there was left; she had been meek enough through all Heber’s vagaries, but there was something in her companion’s manner that stirred her blood, and her spirit was rising. Susannah threw some wood upon the red embers in the grate and raked the bottom bar. Then she stood with one hand on her hip, regarding Catherine, until the silence became so irksome that the girl felt herself forced to speak.
“I’ll stay here by the fire,” she said. “I don’t need a bed.”