Between Snow and Fire — page 101: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

7 1 n atter of infinitesimal account. There was one, however, al whom appearances were beginning no longer to deceive, who, in pursuance of the strange and subtle woman's in- stinct, which had moved her to make that remark to her husband 7” camera, as recorded in a former chapter, began to feel certain that the real object of Eanswyth’s solicitude was to be found west, not east—back in the peaceful Colony instead of in the Transkei braving peril at the hands of the savage enemy. That one was Mrs. Hoste. She was not a clever woman by any means—not even a sharp woman, yet her mind had leaped straight to the root of the matter, And the discovery made her feel exceedingly uncomfortable. That farewell, made in outwardly easy social fashion, under several pairs of eyes, had been a final one. Eustace had not ridden over on another visit, not even a flying one, as Eanswyth had hoped he would. Still, bitterly disap- pointed as she was, she had appreciated the wisdom of his motives—at first. If there was one quality more than an- other she had admired in him in times past, it was his thor- ough and resolute way of doing a thing. If anything had to be done, he did it thoroughly. ‘The undertaking upon which he was then engaged certainly demanded all his time and attention, and he had given both, as was his wont. Still she had hoped he would have found or made some opportunity for seeing her once more. She had heard from him two or three times, but they were letters that all the world might have seen, for Eustace was far too prudent to send anything more meaning intoa house full of other people, and a small and crowded house atthat. The mere glance of an eye—purely accidental, but still a mere glance—on the part of a third person, no matter who, would be more than sufficient to tumble down his fair house of cards ‘n great and irreparable ruin, He was not a man to take any such risks, She had appreciated his caution—at first. But, as time went by, the black drop of a terrible suspicion distilled within her heart. What if he had begun to think differ- ently! What if he had suffered himself to be carried away by a mere moment of passing passion! What if time and absence had opened his eyes! Oh, it was too terrible! It could not be. Yet such things had happened—were happening every day. An awful sense of desolation was upon her. She hun- yer . ba” 8 =. ws : "lel errr 4 4 " “ a er es ee (E()