THEKentishcoastisbleakandgreybetweenLeanhamandBlackstablethroughthelongwintermonthsthewindsoftheNorthSeasweepdownuponit,bowingthetreesbeforethemandfromthemurkywatersperpetuallyarisetheclouds,androllupinheavybanks.Itisacountrythatoffersthosewholivethere,whattheygive:sometimesthesombrecoloursandthesilentseaexpressonlyrestfulnessandpeacesometimesthechillbreezessendthebloodracingthroughtheveinsbutalsothesolitudecananswerthedeepestmelancholy,orthecheerlessskyamiserywhichismoreterriblethandeath.Themoment’smoodseemsalwaysreproducedinthesurroundingscenes,andinthemmaybefound,asitwere,asynthesisoftheemotions.BerthastooduponthehighroadwhichranpastCourtLeys,andfromtheheightlookeddownuponthelandswhichwerehers.Closeathandtheonlyhabitationswereapairofhumblecottages,fromwhichtimeandroughweatherhadalmosteffacedtheobtrusivenessofhumanhandiwork.Theystoodawayfromtheroad,amongfruittrees—apartofnatureandnotablotuponit,asCourtLeyshadneverceasedtobe.Allaroundwerefields,greatstretchesofploughedearthandmeadowsofcoarseherbage.Thetreeswerefew,andstoodouthereandthereinthedistance,bentbeforethewind.BeyondwasBlackstable,stragglinggreyhouseswithaborderofnewvillasbuiltfortheLondonerswhocameinsummerandtheseawasdottedwiththesmacksofthefishingtown.
Berthalookedatthescenewithsensationsthatshehadneverknowntheheavycloudshungaboveher,shuttingoutthewholeworld,andshefeltaninvisiblebarrierbetweenherselfandallotherthings.Thiswasthelandofherbirthoutofwhichshe,andherfathersbeforeher,hadarisentheyhadtheirday,andonebyonereturnedwhencetheycameandbecameagainunitedwiththeearth.Shehadwithdrawnfromthepompsandvanitiesoflifetoliveasherancestorshadlived,ploughingtheland,sowingandreapingbutherchildren,thesonsofthefuture,wouldbelongtoanewstock,strongerandfairerthantheold.TheLeyshadgonedownintothedarknessofdeath,andherchildr