CHAPTER IV
TREADING IN PERILOUS PLACES
Sunday came, as brilliant as if there were no sorrow, or death,
or guilt in the world; a day or two of rain had made the earth
fresh and brave as the blue heavens above. Ruth thought it was
too strong a realisation of her hopes, and looked for an
over-clouding at noon; but the glory endured, and at two o'clock
she was in the Leasowes, with a beating heart full of joy,
longing to stop the hours, which would pass too quickly through
the afternoon.
They sauntered through the fragrant lanes, as if their loitering
would prolong the time and check the fiery-footed steeds
galloping apace towards the close of the happy day. It was past
five o'clock before they came to the great mill-wheel, which
stood in Sabbath idleness, motionless in a brown mass of shade,
and still wet with yesterday's immersion in the deep transparent
water beneath. They clambered the little hill, not yet fully
shaded by the overarching elms; and then Ruth checked Mr.
Bellingham, by a slight motion of the hand which lay within his
arm, and glanced up into his face to see what that face should
express as it looked on Milham Grange, now lying still and
peaceful in its afternoon shadows. It was a house of
after-thoughts; building materials were plentiful in the
neighbourhood, and every successive owner had found a necessity
for some addition or projection, till it was a picturesque mass
of irregularity--of broken light and shadow--which, as a whole,
gave a full and complete idea of a "Home.
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