One day she would
plunge into it--meanwhile it was better that she should move slowly
and assemble gradual impressions. The solid caution that was mingled
in her nature with passionate feeling and enthusiasm taught her
admirable wisdom. Aunt Anne, it seemed, never moved beyond the small
radius of her home and the Chapel. She attended continually Bible-
meetings, prayer-meetings, Chapel services. She had one or two
intimate friends, a simple and devout old maid called Miss Pyncheon,
Mr. Magnus, whom Maggie had seen on the day of her arrival, Mr.
Thurston, to whom Maggie had taken an instant dislike, and Amy
Warlock. She visited these people and they visited her; for the rest
she seemed to take no exercise, and her declared love for the
country did not lead her into the Parks. She was more silent, if
possible, than she had been at St. Dreots, and read to herself a
great deal in the dark and melancholy drawing-room. Although she
talked very little to Maggie, the girl fancied that her eye was
always upon her. There was a strange attitude of watchfulness in her
silent withdrawal from her scene as though she had retired simply
because she could see the better from a distance.
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