The cabin was full of women from Botfield, for Martha had fallen into
violent fits of hysterics, and none of their remedies had any effect in
soothing her. One of them took the dead child from Stephen's arms at the
door, and bade him go away and sit in her cottage till she came to him.
But he turned off towards the hills; and Miss Anne, seeing that she could
say nothing to comfort him just then, watched him strolling along the old
road that led to Fern's Hollow, with his arms folded and his head bent
down, as if he were still carrying that sad burden which he had borne up
from the pit, so closely pressed against his heart.
CHAPTER XV.
RENEWED CONFLICT.
'I'm a murderer, Miss Anne,' said Martha, with a look of settled despair
upon her face, on the evening of the next day.
She had been sitting all the weary hours since morning with her face
buried in her hands, hearing and heeding no one, until Miss Anne came and
sat down beside her, speaking to her in her own kind and gentle tones.
Upon a table in the corner of the cabin lay the little form of the dead
child, covered with a white cloth.
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