In her case the burden was double-weighted: it was sorrow and strife. Well, she was young, and by and by would be herself again; if sorrow was to be her lot she would bear it without complaining, and if strife—she would not be trodden on by any man.
She was young and she was also strong; and with the coming of the bright cold days, when the frost silvered the landscape until the warm sun swept the white dust away into the shadows Nancy’s limbs regained their vigour though her spirits remained low. Keturah would have kept her from Polly’s funeral if she could; but Nancy’s mind was made up.
“I wonder you can shame to go,” the older woman said, “and your own husband, more’s the pity, t’ cause of all t’ trouble. I should want to hide my head i’ my apron if it was me.”
“I’ll go because he’s my husband,” Nancy replied. “They all know me, and they knew he married me for my money. If poor Polly had had money he’d never have looked my way, and it might have saved us both. If only I could have seen the road that lay before me she could have had mine and welcome.”
She had made no change of dress for her baby; but she now removed the flowers from a black hat and went to the house where the mourners were assembled, passing through the crowd at the door, and entering the room where the mother was sitting in her garments of heavy crêpe with the other members of the family about her. A look of astonishment came into the woman’s eyes as she held her handkerchief away for a moment; but there was no animosity there, and when Nancy stooped and kissed her forehead she said—
“Eh, lass, but my heart aches for ye!”
“And mine for you!” returned Nancy. “If I could change places with Polly, I would!”
She looked at nobody else; but in the little passage outside the room Hannah put her arm on her shoulder.
“You shall go home with me when they leave,” she said; and careless of her husband’s disapproval she went.
It was then that she heard for the first time the full story of her husband’s crimes and suspected crimes. It was then that she learned how Jagger had punished Inman when he found him with Polly on the night Nancy’s baby was born. Hannah’s anger was burning fiercely and Nancy’s wrongs added fresh fuel to the flames. No sense of delicacy led her to hide anything from her friend; and when Nancy went home she understood why her husband hated her, and she became conscious of a change of spirit; of a strange exhilaration that left life no longer colourless or purposeless. From that moment her wits began to work with a cautious intelligence that would have surprised her husband, and the Drakes had a very alert agent within the enemy’s camp.