Her
nerve was nowhere, her self-confidence in tatters. But, since this
parlous state was, in the main, physical, air and movement, along with
the direct call on her attention, steadied the one and knit up the
ravelled edges of the other. By the time the plateau was reached and the
hill lay behind her, she could afford to walk the horse, tentatively
invite her soul, and attempt to hold communion with Nature. Sorrow--as
well as the Napoleonic Patch--still sat very squarely beside her; but
the nightmare of mortality, with consequent blankness and emptiness, was
no longer omnipresent. Interest again stirred in her, the healthy
instinct of going on.
Except in the foreground, where foxy browns of withered bracken and
pink-shot browns of withered heather gave richness of tone, the colouring
of the great view was somewhat cold. It dealt in thin, uncertain green,
the buff of stubble, in sharp slate-like blues blended in places with
indigo, the black purple of hawthorn hedges and grey-brown filigree of
leafless trees.
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