Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks
and the Distributed Proofreading Team
1876
It was the middle of autumn, and had rained all day. Through thelozenge-panes of the wide oriel window the world appeared in theslowly gathering dusk not a little dismal. The drops that clungtrickling to the dim glass added rain and gloom to the landscapebeyond, whither the eye passed, as if vaguely seeking that help inthe distance, which the dripping hollyhocks and sodden sunflowersbordering the little lawn, or the honeysuckle covering the wideporch, from which the slow rain dropped ceaselessly upon thepebble-paving below, could not give—steepy slopes, hedge-dividedinto small fields, some green and dotted with red cattle, otherscrowded with shocks of bedraggled and drooping corn, which lookedsuffering and patient.
The room to which the window having this prospect belonged was largeand low, with a dark floor of uncarpeted oak. It opened immediatelyupon the porch, and although a good fire of logs blazed on thehearth, was chilly to the sense of the old man, who, with his feeton the skin of a fallow-deer, sat gazing sadly into the flames,which shone rosy through the thin hands spread out before them. Atthe opposite corner of the great low-arched chimney sat a lady pastthe prime of life, but still beautiful, though the beauty was allbut merged in the loveliness that rises from the heart to the faceof such as have taken the greatest step in life—that is, as theold proverb says, the step out of doors. She was plainly yet ratherrichly dressed, in garments of an old-fashioned and well-preservedlook. Her hair was cut short above her forehead, and frizzed out inbunches of little curls on each side. On her head was a covering ofdark stuff, like a nun's veil, which fell behind and on hershoulders. Close round her neck was a string of amber beads, thatgave a soft harmonious light to her complexion. Her dark eyes lookedas if they found repose there, so quietly did they rest on the faceof the old man, who was plainly a clergyman. It was a small, pale,thin, delicately and symmetrically formed face, yet not the less astrong one, with endurance on the somewhat sad brow, and force inthe closed lips, while a good conscience looked clear out of thegrey eyes.
They had been talking about the fast-gathering tide of opinionwhich, driven on by the wind of words, had already begun to beat sofu