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Updated: May 18, 2025
Ellesborough took in the picture of her, sitting unconscious by the fire, while his own pulse was thumping under the excitement of what he had seen. With a last word to her, he closed the sitting-room door behind him, and went out to meet Janet Leighton in the dark.
"It'll be quite safe?" said Janet anxiously, placing it herself in a prominent place on the writing-table. "Lor, yes, ma'am. Nobody comes in here but me, when the Captain's away. I'll tell him of it directly he comes home." "May I just write a little note myself? I expected to find Captain Ellesborough in." The servant handed her a sheet of paper.
"They're charming to the girls! Chivalrous, kind, everything they should be. But then," she added proudly, "my girls are the pick educated women all of them. I could trust them anywhere. And Captain Ellesborough you won't get any mischief going on where he is." Meanwhile the captain, well out of earshot of Mrs.
There were times when she bitterly, childishly, regretted it. She could almost have hated Ellesborough, because she loved him so well; and because of the terror, the ceaseless preoccupation that her love had begun to impose upon her. Janet, watching her come in, saw that the radiance had departed, and that she crept about again like a tired woman.
I just had to live my own life. I couldn't exist without a bit of pleasure and being admired and seeing men and all that!" Her cheeks had flushed. Her eyes were very bright and defiant. Ellesborough came nearer to her, put out a strong hand and enclosed hers in it. "Well then this man Delane came to live near you?" He spoke with the utmost gentleness, trying to help her out.
After her engagement was made public, she began to look so white, so tired and tremulous, that both Ellesborough and Janet were alarmed. Overwork, according to Janet, with the threshing, and in the potato-fields. Never had Rachel worked with such a feverish energy as in these autumn weeks. Add the excitement of an engagement, said Janet, and you see the result.
"People get talking," he said gloomily. "And when they get talking, they'll believe anything and see anything. It'll be the girls next." Ellesborough tried to cheer him, but without much success. The "poor spirit" of the bailiff was a perpetual astonishment to the American, in the prime of his own life and vigour. Existence for Hastings was always either drab or a black business.
Ellesborough looked at her, and her eyes wavered before the ardour in his. "I say! You work too hard! Haven't you done enough? Come and rest." She nodded. "I'll come!" She ran to say a word to the others and rejoined him. They went back to the farm, not talking much, but conscious through every nerve of the other's nearness.
She was defending herself defending Ellesborough and their joint lives. How was she going to do it? She didn't know. But the passion in her blood would give her strength would see her through. In the old barn, the cows were munching peacefully. The air was sweet with their breath, and with the hay piled in their cribs.
By now she had pieced it all together; and it seemed to Ellesborough that it had a morbid fascination for her. "He dragged himself down this very path," she said. "They tracked him by the blood stains; his wounds dripped all along it. And then he fell, just under my cart-shed. It was a horrible, bitter night.
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