The neighbour who had been speaking
to her was struck with the gray stillness of her face. Susan herself
felt how well her self-command was obeyed by every little muscle, and
said to herself in her Spartan manner, "I can bear it without either
wincing or blenching." She went home early, at a tearing, passionate
pace, trampling and breaking through all obstacles of briar or bush.
Willie was moping in her absence--hanging listlessly on the farm-yard
gate to watch for her. When he saw her, he set up one of his
strange, inarticulate cries, of which she was now learning the
meaning, and came towards her with his loose, galloping run, head and
limbs all shaking and wagging with pleasant excitement. Suddenly she
turned from him, and burst into tears. She sat down on a stone by
the wayside, not a hundred yards from home, and buried her face in
her hands, and gave way to a passion of pent-up sorrow; so terrible
and full of agony were her low cries, that the idiot stood by her,
aghast and silent. All his joy gone for the time, but not, like her
joy, turned into ashes. Some thought struck him. Yes! the sight of
her woe made him think, great as the exertion was. He ran, and
stumbled, and shambled home, buzzing with his lips all the time.
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