![]() ![]() Barbara found some consolation that the ground was frozen. It was too short a distance to harness a carriage, but longer than a pleasant walk-especially on such a chill December day as this. The new mill lay almost two miles from the centre of the village. ![]() ![]() Nor was Mother young and strong enough to face the crowd that surrounded him when he spoke, or to extricate him from the hubbub he created. Mother's volatile nature would add warmth to the day, but it would do nothing to cool her father's zeal. But Father paid little heed to his own discomfort when he was in one of his moods, much less that of others.Īnd she could hardly expect her mother to go. Had she the choice, she'd have been in a seat by the parlour fire, staring out at the changing weather and pitying those forced to go about in it. She wondered if the lack of decorum on her part was the first sign of a life spun out of control. Lately it seemed that she was always running after something or other. Barbara Lampett ran down the lane at the edge of the village of Fiddleton, feeling the crunch of icy mud beneath her feet and the stitch in her side from the cold air in her lungs. ![]()
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