DOI article:
Hickson Murray, Mabel: Two Studies: at the cross roods ; a vigil
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21806#0114
I IO
Two Studies
you could not doubt me ? It would be horrible, impossible.”
His voice dropped again into a murmur.
u Can’t you forgive me-—and forget ? ”
There was a pause. His eyes devoured her face.
“Give me time,” she said. “I don’t think we see it in
the same light ; and if you do not understand I cannot explain
myself. But give me time, I beg of you.”
*****
An hour afterwards the maid came in, and found her mistress
sitting over the dying fire. The girl turned up the gas and, in
the sudden glare, the dreary hotel sitting-room looked more
tawdry and commonplace than ever. The tablecover was pulled
awry ; the curtains, dragged across the window, were ragged and
dirty ; under the maid’s feet, as she crossed the floor, some bits
of scattered coal crunched uncomfortably. She knelt on the
hearth-rug and raked the ashes together, trying to rekindle a
blaze. Her mistress looked on apathetically.
“ That is how I feel,” she said to herseif. “ It is all dead now ;
he will never understand it ; but that is how I feel. If it had
been before his love for me—but now I know I was no help to him,
only a hindrance, and all the best of me seems cold and numb.”
The maid rose from her knees ; a tiny flame was flickering in
the grate. She went out again, and left her mistress sitting there
before the reviving fire.
II—A Vigil
When ten o’clock struck she moved uneasily in her chair.
The dainty Dresden china timepiece on the overmantel
had been a wedding present, and, as the soft notes of the hour
broke
Two Studies
you could not doubt me ? It would be horrible, impossible.”
His voice dropped again into a murmur.
u Can’t you forgive me-—and forget ? ”
There was a pause. His eyes devoured her face.
“Give me time,” she said. “I don’t think we see it in
the same light ; and if you do not understand I cannot explain
myself. But give me time, I beg of you.”
*****
An hour afterwards the maid came in, and found her mistress
sitting over the dying fire. The girl turned up the gas and, in
the sudden glare, the dreary hotel sitting-room looked more
tawdry and commonplace than ever. The tablecover was pulled
awry ; the curtains, dragged across the window, were ragged and
dirty ; under the maid’s feet, as she crossed the floor, some bits
of scattered coal crunched uncomfortably. She knelt on the
hearth-rug and raked the ashes together, trying to rekindle a
blaze. Her mistress looked on apathetically.
“ That is how I feel,” she said to herseif. “ It is all dead now ;
he will never understand it ; but that is how I feel. If it had
been before his love for me—but now I know I was no help to him,
only a hindrance, and all the best of me seems cold and numb.”
The maid rose from her knees ; a tiny flame was flickering in
the grate. She went out again, and left her mistress sitting there
before the reviving fire.
II—A Vigil
When ten o’clock struck she moved uneasily in her chair.
The dainty Dresden china timepiece on the overmantel
had been a wedding present, and, as the soft notes of the hour
broke