I
He was on duty at the factory that night, so Silas, not to be alone, had
his supper with Nan and Gregory. The households of the double-cottage
were so interchangeable that it increased Nan’s sense of restriction
within that grim and tiny circle, the monotony of knowing that after
supper Gregory would bring out his roll of drawings and flatten them out
on the table with drawing-pins, and that Silas would surround himself
with his great Braille volumes, running his fingers over the pages while
his eyes would remain fixed on some distant corner and expressions of
amusement, interest, or indignation uncannily succeeded each other upon
his face. To watch him while he was reading never ceased to fascinate
and frighten Nan. To see him laughing when no one could tell what he was
laughing at, when his eyes were not even bent upon the page!
But to-night she had other thoughts. They were not thoughts, they were a
timorous, shying riot, that took hands; danced; and upon detection broke
up into a scattered rabble. She knew only that they were lovely, and
felt the soft muslin of their garments as they passed her. Not thoughts!
no, they were more like wings, song, and breeze all chasing one another
in her heart. Even the bronze presence of Silas and Gregory could not
weigh against their feathery loveliness. She was bewildered, turning
this way and that with hands outstretched, trying to capture one, to
hold it, and examine it; but she could not, either because it eluded
her, or because she feared to rub away its bloom and colour. She was
like a girl, blindfolded, playing blindman’s buff in the midst of a ring
of children. She sat quite idle, not consciously thinking, not even
conscious that she was happy. For the moment she was completely happy;
she had forgotten both Silas and Gregory. Calthorpe would not have found
her wan; her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted, but so abstracted
was she that she did not know it. She did not know that she was idle,
although she was usually busy over some little industry. She had lost
all sense save that of well-being and deliverance.