CHAPTER IX.
The fire sank, and Mrs.Hurd made no haste to light her lamp.

Soon the old people were dim chattering shapes in a red darkness.

Mrs.Hurd still plaited, silent and upright, lifting her head every now and then at each sound upon the road.
At last there was a knock at the door.

Mrs.Hurd ran to open it.
"Mother, I'm going your way," said a strident voice.

"I'll help you home if you've a mind." On the threshold stood Mrs.Jellison's daughter, Mrs.Westall, with her little boy beside her, the woman's broad shoulders and harsh striking head standing out against the pale sky behind.