” He smiled at her. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. “Call it warning, if you like. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. I know something about men. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer.
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