Him she knew as, next to God, the source of her life, so
well had he fulfilled that first duty of all parents--the
transmission of life. About such things she tried to talk to
Letty, but soon perceived that not a particle of her thought
found its way into Letty's mind: she cared nothing for any duty
concerned--only for the joy of being a mother.
She grew paler yet and thinner; dark hollows came about her eyes;
she was parting with life to give it to her child; she lost the
girlish gayety Tom used to admire, and the something more lovely
that was taking its place he was not capable of seeing. He gave
her less and less of his company. His countenance did not shine
on her; in her heart she grew aware that she feared him, and,
ever as she shrunk, he withdrew. Had it not now been for Mary,
she would likely have died. She did all for her that friend
could. As often as she seemed able, she would take her for a
drive, or on the river, that the wind, like a sensible presence
of God, might blow upon her, and give her fresh life to take home
with her. So little progress did she make with Hesper, that she
could not help thinking it must have been for Letty's sake she
was allowed to go to London.
Mr. and Mrs. Redmain went again to Durnmelling, but Mary begged
Hesper to leave her behind. She told her the reason, without
mentioning the name of the friend she desired to tend.
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