Part 4 (1/2)
The tide was out, Dorman's green Isle rested on its grey rocks, the pond shone like a mirror on the sh.o.r.e, and the young gra.s.s was springing on the giant's grave; but the branches were still bare and brown on the Castle Hill, and the old grey castle stood out whitened by contrast with a background of dark and lowering sky. Beth's highly-strung nerves, already overstrained by excitement, broke down completely under the oppression of those heavy clouds, and she became convulsed with sobs. Kitty took her on her knee, but tried in vain to soothe her before the currant-cake and the motion of the coach had made her deadly sick, after which she dozed off from sheer exhaustion.
The rest of the journey was a nightmare of nausea to her. She was constantly being lifted out of the carriage, and made to lie on a sofa somewhere while the horses were being changed, or put to bed for the night, and dragged up again unrefreshed in the early morning, and consigned once more to misery. Sometimes great dark mountains towered above her, filling her with dread; and sometimes a long lonely level of bare brown bogs was all about her, overwhelming her little soul with such a terrible sense of desolation that she cowered down beside Kitty, and clung to her s.h.i.+vering.
Once her mother shook her for something, and Beth turned faint.
”What's the matter with her, Kitty?” Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, alarmed by her white face.
”You've jest shook the life out of her, m'em, I think,” Kitty answered her tranquilly: ”An' ye'll not rare her that way, I'm thinking.”
Mrs. Caldwell began to dislike Kitty.
On the third day they drove down a delightful road, with hedges on either hand, footpaths, and trees, among which big country-houses nestled. The mountains were still in the neighbourhood, but not near enough to be awesome. On one side of the road was a broad shallow stream, so clear you could see the brown stones at the bottom, a salmon-stream with weirs and waterfalls.
They were nearing a town, and Kitty began to put the things together.
Beth became interested. Mamma looked out of the window every instant, and at last she exclaimed in a tone of relief, which somehow belied the words: ”Here's papa! I _knew_ he would come!” And there was a horse at the window, and papa was on the horse, looking in at them.
Mamma's face became quite rosy, and she laughed a good deal and showed her teeth. Beth had not noticed them before.
”What are you staring at, Beth?” Mildred whispered.
”Mamma's all pink,” Beth said.
”That's blus.h.i.+ng,” said Mildred.
”What's blus.h.i.+ng?” said Beth.
”Getting pink.”
”What does she do it for?”
”She can't help it.”
Beth continued to stare, and at last Mrs. Caldwell noticed it, and asked her what she was looking at.
”You've got nice white teeth,” said Beth. Mrs. Caldwell smiled.
”Have you only just discovered that?” papa asked through the window.
”You never told me,” Beth protested, thinking herself reproached. ”You said Jane Nettles had.”
The smile froze on mamma's lips, and papa's horse became unmanageable.
Beth saw there was something wrong, and stopped, looking from one to the other intently.
Mrs. Caldwell recovered herself. ”What a stolid face she has!” she remarked presently by way of breaking an awkward pause.
Beth wondered what ”stolid” meant, and who ”she” was.
”She doesn't look well,” papa observed.
”She's jest had the life shook out of her, sir,” Kitty put in.