"The Lord does not let one of us off until our day's work is done," he had said even when he himself feared Sally's duties were over.
"Ah' mighty right He war'," Sally now muttered, panting up the last rise. "I reckon I got something yet to do."
Her advent at Stoneledge was nothing less than consummate acting. Knocking at the kitchen door she responded to the call from within and stood before Ann Walden crouching by the fire, and Cynthia awkwardly trying to evolve an evening meal from some materials on the table.
"Miss Ann, I've come to ax mercy o' you."
"Everything is plumb gone an' I got to tell some one o' my misery. Nothing to eat; nothing to hold onto 'cept a trifle o' money what I'se afraid to let any one know I'se got. Miss Ann, chile, there ain't any one goin' to be s'prised at money coming from the Great House, so jes' let me bide long o' you an' lil' miss, for God's sake, ma'am."
The old tie between the family and its dependents held true now even through the growing mists of Ann Walden's brain.
"Cyn," she commanded, "get Ivy--where is Ivy? Tell her to make up a bed for Sally in the loft over the kitchen."
And then again she laughed that meaningless laugh.
Life in the Morley cabin was tense and dangerously vital. The cold had settled down now with serious intent; the door was permanently closed except of entrances and exits and the two small sliding windows in the front and back of the living-room were never opened, and they were coated with grease and dirt until even the brightest day filtered through but dimly.
Martin was depressed and forlorn, he took what was offered him, asked no questions and seemed far and away from any hope of reasserting himself. He brought water and wood indoors; he made and kept the fire; he slept on the settle before the hearth and always he was dreaming or thinking of Sandy. The letter that had, after many weeks, drifted to him, had been read to him by The Forge doctor who happened to be riding by when Martin tremblingly pleaded with him for help.
"It's this-er-way," Morley had explained, striving to hide the depths of his illiteracy; "my eyes don' gone back on me. I reckon I better go down to The Forge and get specs, but jes' now I'd like to have light on this yere letter."