ing aside the flowered curtain that covered her window. The prospect
was certainly not one to cheer; even in sunshine the horizons of the
marsh were discouraging with their gospel of universal flatness, and
this morning the sun was not yet up, and a pale mist was drifting
through the willows, thick and congealed above the watercourses, thinner
on the grazing lands between them, so that one could see the dim shapes
of the sheep moving through it. Even in clear weather only one other
dwelling was visible from Little Ansdore, and that was its fellow of
Great Ansdore, about half a mile away seawards. The sight of it never
failed to make Joanna contemptuous--for Great Ansdore had but fifty
acres of land compared with the three hundred of its Little neighbour.
Its Greatness was merely a matter of name and tradition, and had only
one material aspect in the presentation to the living of
Brodnyx-with-Pedlinge, which had been with Great Ansdore since the
passing of the monks of Canterbury.

To-day Great Ansdore was only a patch of grey rather denser than its
surroundings, and failed to inspire Joanna with her usual sense of
gloating. Her eyes were almost sad as she stared out at it, her chin
propped on her hands. The window was shut, as every window in every farm
and cottage on the marsh was shut at night, though the ague was now
little more than a name on the lips of grandfathers. Therefore the room
in which two people had slept was rather stuffy, though this in itself
would hardly account for Joanna's heaviness, since it was what she
naturally expected a bedroom to be in the morning. Such vague sorrow was
perplexing and disturbing to her practical emotions; she hurriedly
attributed it to "poor father," and the propriety of the sentiment
allowed her the relief of a few tears.

Turning back into the room she unbuttoned her turkey-red dressing-gown,
preparatory to the business of washing and dressing. Then her eye fell
on Ellen still asleep in her little iron bedstead in the corner, and a
glow of tenderness passed like a lamp over her face. She went across to
where her sister slept, and laid her face for a moment beside hers on
the pillow. Ellen's breath came regularly from parted lips--she looked
adorable cuddled there, with her red cheeks, like an apple in snow.
Joanna, unable to resist the temptation, kissed her and woke her.

"Hullo, Jo--what time is it?" mumbled Ellen sleepily.

"Not time to get up yet. I'm not dressed."