He forgot that habit is of all stays the strongest, and that to women a thousand trifles make up--God reward them for it--the work of life: a work which instinct moves them to pursue, though the heavens fall.
Several hours had elapsed since he had entered hotfoot to see her; and the day was beginning to wane.

The flame of the blazing fir-cones, a hundred times reflected in the rows of pewter plates and the surface of the old oaken dressers, left the corners of the room in shadow.
Immediately within the windows, indeed, the daylight held its own; but when she rose and turned to him her back was towards the casement, and the firelight which lit up her face flickered uncertainly, and left him in doubt whether she were moved or not.
"You have eaten nothing!" she said, while he stood pondering what she would say.

"And it is four o'clock! I am sorry!" Her tone, which took shame to herself, gave him a new surprise.
He stopped her as she turned to the dresser.

"Your mother is better ?" he said gently.
"She is herself now," she replied, with a slight quaver, and without looking at him.

And she went about her work.
Did she know?
Did she understand?
In his world was only one fact, in his mind only one tremendous thought: the fact of their position, the thought of their isolation and peril.