She was
vital--in the best sense; the lay figure had come to life. I found it
difficult to believe she was the same woman whose fearful effigy had
floated down those dreary corridors and almost disappeared in the depths
of that atrocious Shadow.
What her beliefs were now I was wise enough to leave unquestioned, and
Frances, to my great relief, kept the conversation well away from such
inappropriate topics. It was clear, however, that the woman had in
herself some secret source of joy, that she was now an aggressive,
positive force, sure of herself, and apparently afraid of nothing in
heaven or hell. She radiated something very like hope and courage about
her, and talked as though the world were a glorious place and everybody
in it kind and beautiful. Her optimism was certainly infectious.
The Towers were mentioned only in passing. The name of Marsh came up--
not the Marsh, it so happened, but a name in some book that was being
discussed--and I was unable to restrain myself. Curiosity was too
strong. I threw out a casual enquiry Mabel could leave unanswered if she
wished. But there was no desire to avoid it. Her reply was frank and
smiling.
"Would you believe it? She married," Mabel told me, though obviously
surprised that I remembered the housekeeper at all; "and is happy as the
day is long.
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