She was alone.  It no longer mattered where she lived, for her alliances henceforth were only of the spirit.  She must find some sphere in which she could create for herself a new activity, for to sit in idleness was to invite dread assaults.  The task of her life was an inward one, but her nature was not adapted to quiescence, and something must replace the task which had come to an end by her mother’s death.  Already she had shaped plans, and she dared not allow needless time to intervene before practically pursuing them.

In the evening of that day Mrs. Baxendale again came to Banbrigg.  She found Emily with writing materials before her.  Her object in coming was to urge Emily to quit this lonely house.

‘Come and stay with me,’ she entreated.  ’You shall be as unmolested as here; no one but myself shall ever come near you.  Emily, I cannot go home and sleep with the thought of you here alone.’

‘You forget,’ Emily replied, ’that I have in reality lived alone for a long time; I do not feel it as you imagine.  No, I must stay here, but not for long.  I shall at once find a teacher’s place again.’

‘That is your intention?’

’Yes.  I shall sell the furniture, and ask the landlord to find another tenant as soon as possible.  But till I go away I wish to live in this house.’

Mrs. Baxendale knew that Emily’s projects were not to be combated like a girl’s idle fancies.  She did not persevere, but let sad silence be her answer.

‘Would you in no case stay in Dunfield?’

’No; I must leave Dunfield.  I don’t think I shall find it difficult to get employment.’

Mrs. Baxendale had never ventured to ask for the girl’s confidence, nor even to show that she desired it.  Emily was more perplexing to her now than even at the time of Wilfrid Athel’s rejection.  She consoled herself with the thought that a period of active occupation was no doubt the best means of restoring this complex nature to healthy views of life; that at all events it was likely to bring about an unravelling of the mysteries in which her existence seemed to have become involved.  You could not deal with her as with other girls; the sources of her strength and her weakness lay too deep; counsel to her would be a useless, an impertinent, interference with her grave self-guiding.  Mrs. Baxendale could but speak words of extreme tenderness, and return whence she had come.  On going away, she felt that the darkest spot of night was over that house.

Emily lived at Banbrigg for more than three weeks.  After the first few days she appeared to grow lighter in mind; she talked more freely with those who came to see her, and gladly accepted friendly aid in little practical matters which had to be seen to.  Half-way between Banbrigg and Dunfield lay the cemetery; there she passed a part of every morning, sometimes in grief which opened all the old wounds, more often in concentration of thought such as made her unaware of the passage