his
nature was good to everybody, and perhaps al! the better for not
descending through too many high generations.

There is nothing more strange than the way things work in the mind of
a woman, when left alone, to doubt about her own behaviour. With men it
can scarcely be so cruel; because they can always convince themselves
that they did their best; and if it fail, they can throw the fault upon
Providence, or bad luck, or something outside their own power. But we
seem always to be denied this happy style of thinking, and cannot put
aside what comes into our heart more quickly, and has less stir of
outward things, to lead it away and to brighten it. So that I fell
into sad, low spirits; and the glory of the year began to wane, and the
forest grew more and more lonesome.

CHAPTER VI.--OVER THE BRIDGE.

The sound of the woods was with me now, both night and day, to dwell
upon. Exmoor in general is bare of trees, though it hath the name of
forest; but in the shelter, where the wind flies over, are many thick
places full of shade. For here the trees and bushes thrive, so copious
with rich moisture that, from the hills on the opposite side, no eye
may pick holes in the umbrage; neither may a foot that gets amid them
be sure of getting out again. And now was the fullest and heaviest
time, for the summer had been a wet one, after a winter that went to our
bones; and the leaves were at their darkest tone without any sense of
autumn. As one stood beneath and wondered at their countless multitude,
a quick breathing passed among them, not enough to make them move, but
seeming rather as if they wished, and yet were half ashamed to sigh. And
this was very sad for one whose spring Comes only once for all.

One night toward the end of August I was lying awake thinking of the
happier times, and wondering what the end would be--for now we had very
little money left, and I would rather starve than die in debt--when I
heard our cottage door smashed in and the sound of horrible voices. The
roar of a gun rang up the stairs, and the crash of someone falling and
the smoke came through my bedroom door, and then wailing mixed with
curses. "Out of the way, old hag!" I heard, and then another shriek;
and then I stood upon the stairs-and looked down at them. The moon was
shining through the shattered door, and the bodies and legs of men went
to and fro, like branches in a tempest. Nobody seemed to notice me,
although I had cast over my