Having accomplished this with such a powerful struggle, she turned
round, with pale despair in her countenance and manner, and with
streaming eyes slowly departed, leaving Mrs. Sullivan in a situation not
at all to be envied.
In a short time the other members of the family, who had been out
at their evening employments, returned. Bartley, her husband, having
entered somewhat sooner than his three daughters from milking, was the
first to come in; presently the girls followed, and in a few minutes
they sat down to supper, together with the servants, who dropped in
one by one, after the toil of the day. On placing themselves about the
table, Bartley, as usual, took his seat at the head; but Mrs. Sullivan,
instead of occupying hers, sat at the fire in a state of uncommon
agitation. Every two or three minutes she would cross herself devoutly,
and mutter such prayers against spiritual influences of an evil nature,
as she could compose herself to remember.
"Thin, why don't you come to your supper, Mary," said the husband,
"while the sowans are warm? Brave and thick they are this night, any
way."
His wife was silent; for so strong a hold had the strange woman and her
appalling secret upon her mind, that it was not till he repeated his
question three or four times--raising his head with surprise, and
asking, "Eh, thin, Mary, what's come over you--is it unwell you
are?"--that she noticed what he said.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241