nd
the gap it made in the smooth ground was wonderful. The figure of my
sister in her chair by the kitchen fire, haunted me night and day. That
the place could possibly be, without her, was something my mind seemed
unable to compass; and whereas she had seldom or never been in my
thoughts of late, I had now the strangest ideas that she was coming
towards me in the street, or that she would presently knock at the door.
In my rooms too, with which she had never been at all associated, there
was at once the blankness of death and a perpetual suggestion of the
sound of her voice or the turn of her face or figure, as if she were
still alive and had been often there.

Whatever my fortunes might have been, I could scarcely have recalled my
sister with much tenderness. But I suppose there is a shock of regret
which may exist without much tenderness. Under its influence (and
perhaps to make up for the want of the softer feeling) I was seized with
a violent indignation against the assailant from whom she had suffered
so much; and I felt that on sufficient proof I could have revengefully
pursued Orlick, or any one else, to the last extremity.

Having written to Joe, to offer him consolation, and to assure him
that I would come to the funeral, I passed the intermediate days in
the curious state of mind I have glanced at. I went down early in the
morning, and alighted at the Blue Boar in good time to walk over to the
forge.

It was fine summer weather again, and, as I walked along, the times
when I was a little helpless creature, and my sister did not spare me,
vividly returned. But they returned with a gentle tone upon them that
softened even the edge of Tickler. For now, the very breath of the beans
and clover whispered to my heart that the day must come when it would
be well for my memory that others walking in the sunshine should be
softened as they thought of me.

At last I came within sight of the house, and saw that Trabb and Co. had
put in a funereal execution and taken possession. Two dismally absurd
persons, each ostentatiously exhibiting a crutch done up in a black
bandage,--as if that instrument could possibly communicate any comfort
to anybody,--were posted at the front door; and in one of them I
recognized a postboy discharged from the Boar for turning a young couple
into a sawpit on their bridal morning, in consequence of intoxication
rendering it necessary for him to ride his horse clasped round the neck
with bo