Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. It looked as if it had taken its world for granted and prospered on that assumption—a world in which children were trained to obey their elders and the wills of women over-ruled as a matter of course. She pulled him towards the bed. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation.
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