"You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. He waited. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence.
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