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Trendle's house was reached at last, however: he was not indoors, and instead of waiting at the cottage, she went to where his bent figure was pointed out to her at work a long way off.
And the fear of her husband's anger made her reluctant to breathe a word of Trendle's suggestion to him or to anybody about him. She did nothing for months, and patiently bore her disfigurement as before. 'What came by a spell will go by a spell surely, she would say.
Even the melancholy horse himself seemed to look in at the window in inquiring despair at each walk round. "'Tis years since I went to Conjuror Trendle's son in Egdon years!" said the dairyman bitterly. "And he was nothing to what his father had been. I have said fifty times, if I have said once, that I DON'T believe in en; though 'a do cast folks' waters very true.
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