She recalled with curious distinctness the effect of the
steady toll of the church bell--the "passing bell."
She could hear it as she had heard it the first time it fell upon
her ear, and she had inquired what it meant. Why did they call it the
"passing bell"? All had passed before it began to toll--all had passed.
If it tolled at Dunstan and the pit was dug in the churchyard before
her father came, would he see, the moment they met, that something had
befallen her--that the Betty he had known was changed--gone? Yes, he
would see. Affection such as his always saw. Then he would sit alone
with her in some quiet room and talk to her, and she would tell him the
strange thing that had happened. He would understand--perhaps better
than she.
She stopped abruptly in her walk and stood still. The hand holding her
package was quite cold. This was what one must not allow one's self. But
how the thoughts had raced through her brain! She turned and hastened
her steps towards Mrs. Welden's cottage.
In Mrs. Welden's tiny back yard there stood a "coal lodge" suited to the
size of the domicile and already stacked with a full winter's supply
of coal. Therefore the well-polished and cleanly little grate in the
living-room was bright with fire.
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