"No! he'll be stopping somewhere out Ulverstone ways. I'm sure we've
need of him at home, for I've no one but lile Tommy to help me tend
the beasts. Things have not gone well with us, and we don't keep a
servant now. But you're trembling all over, ma'am. You'd better
come in, and take something warm, while your horse rests. That's the
stable-door, to your left."
Susan took her horse there; loosened his girths, and rubbed him down
with a wisp of straw. Then she hooked about her for hay; but the
place was bare of feed, and smelt damp and unused. She went to the
house, thankful for the respite, and got some clap-bread, which she
mashed up in a pailful of lukewarm water. Every moment was a
respite, and yet every moment made her dread the more the task that
lay before her. It would be longer than she thought at first. She
took the saddle off, and hung about her horse, which seemed, somehow,
more like a friend than anything else in the world. She laid her
cheek against its neck, and rested there, before returning to the
house for the last time.
Eleanor had brought down one of her own gowns, which hung on a chair
against the fire, and had made her unknown visitor a cup of hot tea.
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