The
ball had brought amusement to all, to Esther it had brought happiness. Her
happiness was now visible in her face and audible in her voice, and
Sarah's ironical allusions to her inability to learn to read no longer
annoyed her, no longer stirred her temper--her love seemed to induce
forgiveness for all and love for everything.
In the evenings when their work was done Esther and her lover lingered
about the farm buildings, listening to the rooks, seeing the lights die in
the west; and in the summer darkness about nine she tripped by his side
when he took the letters to post. The wheat stacks were thatching, and in
the rickyard, in the carpenter's shop, and in the whist of the woods they
talked of love and marriage. They lay together in the warm valleys,
listening to the tinkling of the sheep-bell, and one evening, putting his
pipe aside, William threw his arm round her, whispering that she was his
wife. The words were delicious in her fainting ears, and her will died in
what seemed like irresistible destiny. She could not struggle with him,
though she knew that her fate depended upon her resistance, and swooning
away she awakened in pain, powerless to free herself.... Soon after
thoughts betook themselves on their painful way, and the stars were
shining when he followed her across the down, beseeching her to listen.
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