rational man would so play the lunatic as to let men starve, and wreck
precious mines, for the sake of avoiding her.

Sullen days went by. On these days of the slate-cloud or the
leaden-winged, Carinthia walked over the hills to her staring or
down-eyed silent people, admitted without a welcome at some doors,
rejected at some. Her baskets from the castle were for the most part
received as graciously. She continued to direct them for delivery where
they were needed, and understood why a charity that supplied the place
of justice was not thanked. She and her people here were one regarding
the master, as she had said. They could not hurt her sensitiveness,
she felt too warmly with them. And here it was not the squalid, flat,
bricked east-corner of London at the close of her daily pilgrimage. Up
from the solitary street of the slate-roofs, she mounted a big hill and
had the life of high breathing. A perpetual escape out of the smoky,
grimy city mazes was trumpeted to her in the winds up there: a
recollected contrast lightened the skyless broad spaces overhead almost
to sunniness. Having air of the hills and activity for her limbs, she
made sunshine for herself. Regrets were at no time her nestlings.

Look backward only to correct an error of conduct for the next attempt,
says one of her father's Maxims; as sharply bracing for women as for
men. She did not look back to moan. Now that her hunger for the safety
of her infant was momentarily quieted, she could see Kit Ines hanging
about the lower ground, near the alehouse, and smile at Madge's
comparison of him to a drummed-out soldier, who would like to be taken
for a holiday pensioner.

He saluted; under the suspicion of his patron's lady his legs were
hampered, he dared not approach her; though his innocence of a deed not
proposed to him yet--and all to stock that girl Madge's shop, if done!
knocked at his ribs with fury to vindicate himself before the lady and
her maid. A gentleman met them and conducted them across the hills.

And two Taffy gentlemen would hardly be sufficient for the purpose,
supposing an ill-used Englishman inclined to block their way!--What, and
play footpad, Kit Ines? No, it's just a game in the head. But a true man
hates to feel himself suspected. His refuge is the beer of the country.

Next day there were the two gentlemen to conduct the lady and her maid;
and Taffy the first walks beside the countess; and that girl Madge
trudges along with no o