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She sat brushing her long hair; fevered with the city's fever, she saw not herself in the glass, but all the stress that had been and the stress that was to be. Cleave's latest letter had rested in the bosom of her dress; now the thin oblong of bluish paper lay before her on the dressing table.
Being but human, Alfred naturally embraced the heaven-sent chance of dawdling, passing the time of day with various cronies, and rapturously assisting to hound a couple of wild, sweating and snorting steers along the dusty lane, behind the churchyard, to Butcher Cleave's slaughter-house: with the consequence that his menial duties devolved upon Laura and Lizzie, who, supported by the heads of their respective departments, combined to "give him the what for," in no measured terms upon his eventual and very tardy return.
It will be bloody fighting when it comes Heigho!" "The bricks of the pavement know that," said Judith. "Sometimes, Fauquier, you can see horror on the faces of these houses just as plain! and at night I hear the river reading the bulletin!" "Poor child! Yes, we make all nature a partner. Judith, I was glad to hear of Richard Cleave's happiness as glad as I was surprised.
Cleave's case, "An Astral Body," in this chapter, he will be struck by the resemblance. Mr. Cleave and Mrs. Goffe were both in a trance. Both wished to see persons at a distance. Both saw, and each was seen, Mrs. Goffe by her children's nurse; Mr. Cleave by the person whom he wished to see, but not by a small boy also present.
Others drilled, and were now ready to march, as they came from the plough, the mill, or the forge. But Cleave's company, by virtue of Cleave himself, was fairly equipped. The uniforms had come, and there was a decent showing of modern arms.
Never jovial, seldom genial, he was on one day much what he was on another saving always battle days. Riding with his steadfast grey-blue eyes level before him, he communed with himself or with Heaven certainly not with his dissatisfied troops. He acknowledged Cleave's salute, and took the letter which the other produced. "Good! good! What did you do at Charlottesville?"
O God! my lover hast Thou put far from me." She knelt there long; but at last she rose, laid the letters in the box, and took from another compartment Margaret Cleave's. These were since July, a letter every fortnight. Judith read again the later ones, the ones of the late summer. "Dear child dearest child, I cannot tell you!
While they waited she sat with folded hands, her eyes upon the purple hills, her thoughts away from Albemarle. The sound that Isham made of surprise and satisfaction did not reach her. Until she saw Cleave's face at the window she thought him somewhere in the Valley fighting, fighting! in battle and danger, perhaps, that very day.
Conversation ran upon the weather, the crops, the migratory wild fowl now peopling the Haven, the Royal Family invariably a favourite topic this, in genteel circles furthest removed from the throne in anecdotes of servants and of pets interspersed with protests against the rise in butcher Cleave's prices, the dullness of the newspapers and the surprising scarcity of eggs.
The mass of the people were very honest, stubbornly convinced, showing to the end a most heroic and devoted ardour. This village was not behindhand. All her young men were going; she had her company, too. She welcomed Cleave's men, gathered for the momentarily expected order to the front, and lavished upon them, as on two other companies within her bounds, every hospitable care.
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