'That girl is always terrifying me,' thought Nancy; 'I wish Godfrey
would come in.'
She went to the front window and looked as far as she could see
along the road, with an uneasiness which she felt to be childish, for
there were now no such signs of excitement as Jane had spoken of, and
Godfrey would not be likely to return by the village road, but by the
fields. She continued to stand, however, looking at the placid
churchyard with the long shadows of the gravestones across the bright
green hillocks, and at the glowing autumn colours of the Rectory trees
beyond. Before such calm external beauty the presence of a vague fear
is more distinctly felt- like a raven flapping its slow wing across
the sunny air. Nancy wished more and more that Godfrey would come in.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SOME one opened the door at the other end of the room, and Nancy
felt that it was her husband. She turned from the window with gladness
in her eyes, for the wife's chief dread was stilled.
'Dear, I'm so thankful you're come,' she said, going towards him.
'I began to get--'
She paused abruptly, for Godfrey was laying down his hat with
trembling hands, and turned towards her with a pale face and a strange
unanswering glance, as if he saw her indeed, but saw her as part of
a scene invisible to herself. She laid her hand on his arm, not daring
to speak again; but he left the touch unnoticed, and threw himself
into his chair.
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