theletter,clenchingherhandssoasnottoseizeitandtearitopenshehadtoholdherselfforciblybackfromcoveringitwithkisses.Butatlastsheconqueredalldesire,shewasabletolookatthehandwritingindifferentlyshescrutinisedherheartandfoundnotraceofemotion.Thetrialwascomplete.
“Nowitcango,”shesaid.
Againshelitacandle,andheldthelettertotheflametillitwasallconsumedandshegathereduptheashes,puttingtheminherhand,andblewthemoutofthewindow.Shefeltthatbythatactshehadfinishedwiththewholething,andGeraldwasdefinitelygoneoutofherlife.
ButrestdidnotyetcometoBertha’stroubledsoul.Atfirstshefoundherlifefairlytolerablebutshehadnownoemotionstodistractherandtheroutineofherdaywasunvarying.Theweekspassedandthemonthsthewintercameuponher,moredrearythanshehadeverknownitthecountrybecameinsufferablydull.Thedaysweregrayandcold,andthecloudssolowthatshecouldalmosttouchthem.Thebroadfieldswhichoncehadaffordedsuchinspiringthoughtswerenowmerelytedious,andalltheruralsightssankintohermindwithapitilessmonotonydayafterday,monthaftermonth,shesawthesamethings.Shewasboredtodeath.
SometimesBerthawanderedtotheseashoreandlookedacrossthedesolatewasteofwatershelongedtotravelashereyesandhermindtravelled,south,southtotheazureskies,tothelandsofbeautyandofsunshinebeyondthegrayness.Fortunatelyshedidnotknowthatshewaslookingalmostdirectlynorth,andthatifshereallywentonandonasshedesired,wouldreachnosouthernlandsofpleasure,butmerelytheNorthPole!
Shewalkedalongthebeach,amongthecountlessshellsandnotcontentwithpresentdisquietude,torturedherselfwithanticipationofthefuture.Shecouldonlyimaginethatitwouldbringanincreaseofthisfrightfulennui,andherheadachedasshelookedforwardtothedullmonotonyofherlife.Shewenthome,andgroanedassheenteredthehouse,thinkingofthetiresomeevening.Invariablyafterdinnertheyplayedpiquet.Edwardlikedtoconducthislifeonthemostmechanical