On Yoresett Moor.
Judith had gone unwillingly with her sisters to the Mallesons’ temporary home in Swaledale. They had driven there. It was only some four miles distant from Yoresett, but the road was a mountain-pass, going first sheer up, and then sheer down a steep hill with glorious views of moor and mountain on every side. The Mallesons made much of the girls, and were heartily delighted to see them. Delphine and Rhoda were pleased and touched by this kindness; so, too, was Judith, but she could not shake off the weight which oppressed her spirits. The cause of her unhappiness was not far to seek. It was the wretched breach between herself and her mother which took the pleasure from her life at this time. That breach had only grown deeper during the week she had been at home, certainly not from any wish of Judith’s. But all her submissiveness, all her eager wish to please, only seemed to irritate Mrs. Conisbrough further and further against her daughter. She had parted from her with marked coldness that morning, and the remembrance of her alien glance, and of the hard and unfriendly ring of her voice, lay like a leaden weight at Judith’s heart.