you, that she had a hard
fight to win such peace.

Married, made a woman, she lost her haunted look and gained some
colour in her cheeks. She lost her mortal chill. Her clothing, the
putting up of her hair made some difference, but loving entreaty all
the difference in the world. To a casual glance there was nothing but
refinement to distinguish her from her neighbours, to a closer one
there was more than that. Her eyes, they said, had the far, intent,
rapt gaze of a wild animal. They seemed to search minutely, reaching
beyond our power of vision, to find there things beyond our human ken.
But whereas the things which she looked at, invisible to us, caused
her no dismay, those within our range, the most ordinary and
commonplace, filled her with alarm. Her eyes, you may say, communed
with the unseen, and her soul followed their direction and dwelt
remote from her body. She was easily startled, not only by what she
saw but by what she heard. Nobody was ever more sensitive to sound.
They say that a piano-tuner goes not by sound, but by the vibrations
of the wire, which he is able to test without counting. It was so with
her. She seemed to feel the trembling of the circumambient air, and to
know by its greater or less intensity that something--and very often
what thing in particular--was affecting it. All her senses were
preternaturally acute--she could see incredible distances, hear,
smell, in a way that only wild nature can. Added to these, she had
another sense, whereby she could see what was hidden from us and
understand what we could not even perceive. One could guess as much,
on occasions, by the absorbed intensity of her gaze. But when she was
with her husband (which was whenever he would allow it) she had no
eyes, ears, senses or thoughts for any other living thing, seen or
unseen. She followed him about like a dog, and when that might not be
her eyes followed him. Sometimes, when he was afield with his sheep,
they saw her come out of the cottage and slink up the hedgerow to the
fell's foot. She would climb the brae, search him out, and then crouch
down and sit watching him, never taking her eyes off him. When he was
at home her favourite place was at his feet. She would sit huddled
there for hours, and his hand would fall upon her hair or rest on her
shoulder; and you could see the pleasure thrilling her, raying out
from her--just as you can see, as well as hear, a cat purring by the
fire. He used to whisper in he