bedward journey. She was
beginning to feel that her head and her heart were both aching, and that
any more confidences from Emmy would be unbearable. And where Emmy had
grown communicative--since Emmy had nothing to conceal--Jenny had felt
more and more that her happiness was staled as thought corroded it. By
the time they turned out the kitchen gas the clock pointed to twenty
minutes past two, and the darkest hour was already recorded. In three
more hours the sun would rise, and Jenny knew that long before then she
would see the sky greying as though the successive veils of the
transformation were to reveal the crystal grotto. She preceded Emmy up
the stairs, carrying a candle and lighting the way. At the top of the
staircase Emmy would find her own candle, and they would part. They were
now equally eager for the separation, Emmy because she wanted to think
over and over again the details of her happiness, and to make plans for
a kind of life that was to open afresh in days that lay ahead. Arrived
at the landing the sisters did not pause or kiss, but each looked and
smiled seriously as she entered her bedroom. With the closing of the
doors noise seemed to depart from the little house, though Jenny heard
Emmy moving in her room. The house was in darkness. Emmy was gone; Pa
lay asleep in the dim light, his head bandaged and the water slowly
soaking into the towel protectively laid upon his chest; in the kitchen
the ailing clock ticked away the night. Everything seemed at peace but
Jenny, who, when she had closed the door and set her candle down, went
quickly to the bed, sitting upon its edge and looking straight before
her with dark and sober eyes.

She had much to think of. She would never forgive herself now for
leaving Pa. It might have been a more serious accident that had happened
during her absence; she could even plead, to Emmy, that the accident
might have happened if she had not left the house at all; but nothing
her quick brain could urge had really satisfied Jenny. The stark fact
remained that she had been there under promise to tend Pa; and that she
had failed in her acknowledged trust. He might have died. If he had
died, she would have been to blame. Not Pa! He couldn't help himself! He
was driven by inner necessity to do things which he must not be allowed
to do. Jenny might have pleaded the same justification. She had done so
before this. It had been a necessity to her to go to Keith. As far as
that went