Sundered During the next few weeks Ruth continued very ill.Although the delirium had left her and did not return, her manner was still very strange, and it was remarkable that she slept but little and at long intervals.Mrs Owen came to look after her every day, not going back to her own home till the evening.Frankie used to call for her as he came out of school and then they used to go home together, taking little Freddie Easton with them also, for his own mother was not able to look after him and Mary Linden had so much other work to do.
On Wednesday evening, when the child was about five weeks old, as Mrs Owen was wishing her good night, Ruth took hold of her hand and after saying how grateful she was for all that she had done, she asked whether - supposing anything happened to herself - Nora would promise to take charge of Freddie for Easton.Owen's wife gave the required promise, at the same time affecting to regard the supposition as altogether unlikely, and assuring her that she would soon be better, but she secretly wondered why Ruth had not mentioned the other child as well.
Nora went away about five o'clock, leaving Ruth's bedroom door open so that Mrs Linden could hear her call if she needed anything.About a quarter of an hour after Nora and the two children had gone, Mary Linden went upstairs to see Ruth, who appeared to have fallen fast asleep; so she returned to her needlework downstairs.The weather had been very cloudy all day, there had been rain at intervals and it was a dark evening, so dark that she had to light the lamp to see her work.Charley sat on the hearthrug in front of the fire repairing one of the wheels of a wooden cart that he had made with the assistance of another boy, and Elsie busied herself preparing the tea.
Easton was not yet home; Rushton & Co.had a few jobs to do and he had been at work since the previous Thursday.The place where he was working was some considerable distance away, so it was nearly half past six when he came home.They heard him at the gate and at her mother's direction Elsie went quickly to the front door, which was ajar, to ask him to walk as quietly as possible so as not to wake Ruth.
Mary had prepared the table for his tea in the kitchen, where there was a bright fire with the kettle singing on the hob.He lit the lamp and after removing his hat and overcoat, put the kettle on the fire and while he was waiting for it to boil he went softly upstairs.
There was no lamp burning in the bedroom and the place would have been in utter darkness but for the red glow of the fire, which did not dispel the prevailing obscurity sufficiently to enable him to discern the different objects in the room distinctly.The intense silence that reigned struck him with a sudden terror.He crossed swiftly over to the bed and a moment's examination sufficed to tell him that it was empty.He called her name, but there was no answer, and a hurried search only made it certain that she was nowhere in the house.
Mrs Linden now remembered what Owen's wife had told her of the strange request that Ruth had made, and as she recounted it to Easton, his fears became intensified a thousandfold.He was unable to form any opinion of the reason of her going or of where she had gone, as he rushed out to seek for her.Almost unconsciously he directed his steps to Owen's house, and afterwards the two men went to every place where they thought it possible she might have gone, but without finding any trace of her.
Her father lived a short distance outside the town, and this was one of the first places they went to, although Easton did not think it likely she would go there, for she had not been on friendly terms with her stepmother, and as he had anticipated, it was a fruitless journey.
They sought for her in every conceivable place, returning often to Easton's house to see if she had come home, but they found no trace of her, nor met anyone who had seen her, which was, perhaps, because the dreary, rain-washed streets were deserted by all except those whose business compelled them to be out.
About eleven o'clock Nora was standing at the front door waiting for Owen and Easton, when she thought she could discern a woman's figure in the shadow of the piers of the gate opposite.It was an unoccupied house with a garden in front, and the outlines of the bushes it contained were so vague in the darkness that it was impossible to be certain; but the longer she looked the more convinced she became that there was someone there.At last she summoned sufficient courage to cross over the road, and as she nervously drew near the gate it became evident that she had not been mistaken.There was a woman standing there - a woman with a child in her arms, leaning against one of the pillars and holding the iron bars of the gate with her left hand.It was Ruth.Nora recognized her even in the semi-darkness.Her attitude was one of extreme exhaustion, and as Nora touched her, she perceived that she was wet through and trembling; but although she was almost fainting with fatigue she would not consent to go indoors until repeatedly assured that Easton was not there, and that Nora would not let him see her if he came.And when at length she yielded and went into the house she would not sit down or take off her hat or jacket until - crouching on the floor beside Nora's chair with her face hidden in the latter's lap - she had sobbed out her pitiful confession, the same things that she had unwittingly told to the same hearer so often before during the illness, the only fact that was new was the account of her wanderings that night.
She cried so bitterly and looked so forlorn and heartbroken and ashamed as she faltered out her woeful story; so consumed with self-condemnation, making no excuse for herself except to repeat over and over again that she had never meant to do wrong, that Nora could not refrain from weeping also as she listened.
