But the fate, for which long thought and hours on her knees had prepared her--so that it seemed but a black and bitter passage with peace beyond--appalled her for him; and might well appal him.

The courage of men is active, of women passive; with a woman's instinct she knew this, allowed for it, and allowed, too, for another thing--that he was fasting.
When he looked up, startled by the tinkle of pewter and the rustle of her skirt, she was kneeling between the settle and the fire, preparing food.

He flattered himself that in the dark she had not seen him, and when he had regained his self-control he stepped to the settle-back and looked over it.
"You did not see me ?" he said.
She did not answer at once, but finished what she was doing.

Then she stood up and handed him a bowl.

"The bread is on the table," she said, indicating it.