as she thought on these things, wandered from window to window,
too restless and excited to sit still; but, even occupied as she was,
after she had changed her dress the old trick came upon her, and she
was all the while observing.

It was autumn, and on the south she overlooked a field of barley,
standing in stooks, waiting to be carted. She noticed how the long,
irregular rows and their shadows showed in the moonlight. Across the
field the farm to which it belonged nestled in an apple-orchard. From
the east end of the house she obtained a glimpse of the sea, which was
near enough, for the drowsy murmur of it reached her even in calm
weather. To the west the highroad ran, and in her wanderings from
window to window Beth paused to contemplate it, to follow it in
imagination whither it led, to think of the weary way it was to so
many weary feet, to mourn because she could not offer rest and
refreshment to every one that passed.

The night was clear and the air was crisp, with a suspicion of frost
in it, such as sometimes comes in the late autumn. The moon was
sinking, and the stars shone out ever more brightly. Down in the
roadway a little brazier burned, where the road had been taken up and
blocked for repairs, and over the brazier the old watchman, who should
have been guarding the tools and materials that had been left lying
about, dozed in a sort of sentry-box. It occurred to Beth that the
task was long and dreary, and that the air grew chilly towards the
dawn. Surely some food would cheer and refresh him, and help to pass
the time. She went down to the pantry and got some, then carried it
out on a tray. But the old man was sound asleep, and, standing there
in her long white wrapper, she had to call him several times, "Old
man! old man!" before she roused him.

He awoke at last with a start, and seeing the unexpected apparition in
the dim light, exclaimed, "Holy Mother! why have you come to me?"

Beth silently set the tray before him and slipped away, leaving him in
the happy certainty that a heavenly vision had been vouchsafed him.

But the moon set, the stars paled, and, from her window to the east,
Beth watched the dark melt to dusk, and the dusk pale to an even grey,
into which were breathed the burnished colours of the happy dawn.
Then, when the sun was high, and the accustomed sounds of life and
movement that held her ear by day had well begun, down the long road
beneath the old gnarled trees the postman c