At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. That was the true marvel of it.
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