In the corner Mr.
Granger slept in his armchair, or perhaps he had gone to bed altogether,
for he liked to go to bed at half-past eight, as the old Herefordshire
farmer, his father, had done before him; and at the far end of the room
sat Elizabeth, doing her accounts by the light of a solitary candle,
or, if they failed her, reading some book of a devotional and inspired
character. But over the edge of the book, or from the page of crabbed
accounts, her eyes would glance continually towards the handsome pair in
the window-place, and she would smile as she saw that it went well. Only
they never saw the glances or noted the smile. When Geoffrey looked that
way, which was not often, for Elizabeth--old Elizabeth, as he always
called her to himself--did not attract him, all he saw was her sharp but
capable-looking form bending over her work, and the light of the candle
gleaming on her straw-coloured hair and falling in gleaming white
patches on her hard knuckles.
And so the happy day would pass and bed-time come, and with it unbidden
dreams.
Geoffrey thought no ill of all this, as of course he ought to have
thought.
Pages:
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221