ts conflicts, its faith, and its love. Then
their presence is a power, then they shake us like a passion, and we are
drawn after them with gentle compulsion, as flame is drawn to flame.

Janet's dark grand face, still fatigued, had become quite calm, and
looked up, as she sat, with a humble childlike expression at the thin
blond face and slightly sunken grey eyes which now shone with hectic
brightness. She might have been taken for an image of passionate strength
beaten and worn with conflict; and he for an image of the self-renouncing
faith which has soothed that conflict into rest. As he looked at the
sweet submissive face, he remembered its look of despairing anguish, and
his heart was very full as he turned away from her. 'Let me only live to
see this work confirmed, and then ...'

It was nearly ten o'clock when Mr. Tryan left, but Janet was bent on
sending for her mother; so Mrs. Pettifer, as the readiest plan, put on
her bonnet and went herself to fetch Mrs. Raynor. The mother had been too
long used to expect that every fresh week would be more painful than the
last, for Mrs. Pettifer's news to come upon her with the shock of a
surprise. Quietly, without any show of distress, she made up a bundle of
clothes, and, telling her little maid that she should not return home
that night, accompanied Mrs. Pettifer back in silence.

When they entered the parlour, Janet, wearied out, had sunk to sleep in
the large chair, which stood with its back to the door. The noise of the
opening door disturbed her, and she was looking round wonderingly when
Mrs. Raynor came up to her chair, and said, 'It's your mother, Janet.'

'Mother, dear mother!' Janet cried, clasping her closely. 'I have not
been a good tender child to you, but I will be--I will not grieve you any
more.'

The calmness which had withstood a new sorrow was overcome by a new joy,
and the mother burst into tears.

Chapter 20

On Sunday morning the rain had ceased, and Janet, looking out of the
bedroom window, saw, above the house-tops, a shining mass of white cloud
rolling under the far-away blue sky. It was going to be a lovely April
day. The fresh sky, left clear and calm after the long vexation of wind
and rain, mingled its mild influence with Janet's new thoughts and
prospects. She felt a buoyant courage that surprised herself, after the
cold crushing weight of despondency which had oppressed her the day
before: she could think even of her husband's