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“
I
wish
I
might
go
on
by
myself
,
”
he
resumed
,
fearing
,
apparently
,
that
he
was
to
be
pressed
into
some
unpleasant
service
.
“
Do
you
want
me
any
more
,
please
?
”
Mrs
.
Yeobright
made
no
reply
.
“
What
shall
I
tell
Mother
?
”
the
boy
continued
.
“
Tell
her
you
have
seen
a
broken
-
hearted
woman
cast
off
by
her
son
.
”
Before
quite
leaving
her
he
threw
upon
her
face
a
wistful
glance
,
as
if
he
had
misgivings
on
the
generosity
of
forsaking
her
thus
.
He
gazed
into
her
face
in
a
vague
,
wondering
manner
,
like
that
of
one
examining
some
strange
old
manuscript
the
key
to
whose
characters
is
undiscoverable
.
He
was
not
so
young
as
to
be
absolutely
without
a
sense
that
sympathy
was
demanded
,
he
was
not
old
enough
to
be
free
from
the
terror
felt
in
childhood
at
beholding
misery
in
adult
quarters
hither
-
to
deemed
impregnable
;
and
whether
she
were
in
a
position
to
cause
trouble
or
to
suffer
from
it
,
whether
she
and
her
affliction
were
something
to
pity
or
something
to
fear
,
it
was
beyond
him
to
decide
.
He
lowered
his
eyes
and
went
on
without
another
word
.
Before
he
had
gone
half
a
mile
he
had
forgotten
all
about
her
,
except
that
she
was
a
woman
who
had
sat
down
to
rest
.
Mrs
.
Yeobright
’
s
exertions
,
physical
and
emotional
,
had
well
-
nigh
prostrated
her
;
but
she
continued
to
creep
along
in
short
stages
with
long
breaks
between
.
The
sun
had
now
got
far
to
the
west
of
south
and
stood
directly
in
her
face
,
like
some
merciless
incendiary
,
brand
in
hand
,
waiting
to
consume
her
.
With
the
departure
of
the
boy
all
visible
animation
disappeared
from
the
landscape
,
though
the
intermittent
husky
notes
of
the
male
grasshoppers
from
every
tuft
of
furze
were
enough
to
show
that
amid
the
prostration
of
the
larger
animal
species
an
unseen
insect
world
was
busy
in
all
the
fullness
of
life
In
two
hours
she
reached
a
slope
about
three
-
fourths
the
whole
distance
from
Alderworth
to
her
own
home
,
where
a
little
patch
of
shepherd
’
s
-
thyme
intruded
upon
the
path
;
and
she
sat
down
upon
the
perfumed
mat
it
formed
there
.
In
front
of
her
a
colony
of
ants
had
established
a
thoroughfare
across
the
way
,
where
they
toiled
a
never
-
ending
and
heavy
-
laden
throng
.
To
look
down
upon
them
was
like
observing
a
city
street
from
the
top
of
a
tower
.
She
remembered
that
this
bustle
of
ants
had
been
in
progress
for
years
at
the
same
spot
—
doubtless
those
of
the
old
times
were
the
ancestors
of
these
which
walked
there
now
.
She
leant
back
to
obtain
more
thorough
rest
,
and
the
soft
eastern
portion
of
the
sky
was
as
great
a
relief
to
her
eyes
as
the
thyme
was
to
her
head
.
While
she
looked
a
heron
arose
on
that
side
of
the
sky
and
flew
on
with
his
face
towards
the
sun
.
He
had
come
dripping
wet
from
some
pool
in
the
valleys
,
and
as
he
flew
the
edges
and
lining
of
his
wings
,
his
thighs
and
his
breast
were
so
caught
by
the
bright
sunbeams
that
he
appeared
as
if
formed
of
burnished
silver
.
Up
in
the
zenith
where
he
was
seemed
a
free
and
happy
place
,
away
from
all
contact
with
the
earthly
ball
to
which
she
was
pinioned
;
and
she
wished
that
she
could
arise
uncrushed
from
its
surface
and
fly
as
he
flew
then
.
But
,
being
a
mother
,
it
was
inevitable
that
she
should
soon
cease
to
ruminate
upon
her
own
condition
.
Had
the
track
of
her
next
thought
been
marked
by
a
streak
in
the
air
,
like
the
path
of
a
meteor
,
it
would
have
shown
a
direction
contrary
to
the
heron
’
s
,
and
have
descended
to
the
eastward
upon
the
roof
of
Clym
’
s
house
.
He
in
the
meantime
had
aroused
himself
from
sleep
,
sat
up
,
and
looked
around
.
Eustacia
was
sitting
in
a
chair
hard
by
him
,
and
though
she
held
a
book
in
her
hand
she
had
not
looked
into
it
for
some
time
.
