Towards noon Mrs. Lilly appeared on the terrace, and sailed down the broad garden-path between the lines of brilliant flowers. She was stout and comely, with white hair and a winter-apple face. A very honest, pleasant old woman was Mrs. Lilly, but behind the times. It was her boast that she had never been away from the Weald of Sussex for one solitary day out of a long length of years; and she had no patience--as she frequently stated--with the new-fangled notions of modern life (of which, it may be remarked incidentally, she knew no more than a child unborn!). Beatrice looked at the housekeeper's worn black silk dress, at her lace cap and voluminous apron, and acknowledged that Mrs. Lilly was a picturesque figure, who might have stepped out of the pages of a Christmas Number. The very model of a pompous, narrow-minded, honest, kindly old English servant.
Beatrice started. "Mrs. Snow said something about that," she observed, thoughtfully. "Why did the man become a shepherd? So odd!"
It certainly might have been the weather which made her feel so ill at ease, for the hot day had ended in an even hotter evening. The air was close, the sky was clouded, and there was not a breath of wind to stir the leaves of the surrounding trees. Ever and again a flicker of lightning would leap across the sky--summer lightning which portended storm and rain. Beatrice, trying to breathe freely in the suffocating air, wished that the storm would come to clear the atmosphere. There was electricity in the dry air, and she felt as uncomfortable as a cat which has its hair smoothed the wrong way. On some such night as this must Lady Macbeth have received Duncan, and Nature hinted at a repetition of the storm which took place when the guileless king was done to death in the shambles.
Beatrice could not rest within doors. She put on a hat, and draped a long black cloak over her white dress. Attired thus, she walked up and down on the dry grass, trying to compose herself. Around gloomed the girdle of trees, without even a leaf stirring. The colours of the flowers were vague in the hot twilight, and the white forms of the seven railway carriages stood here and there like tombs in a cemetery. As she lingered near the sundial, she cast a look upward at the Downs, which rose vast and shadowy to be defined clearly against a clear sky. The foot of them was but a stone-throw away from The Camp, and almost it was in her mind to climb their heights in order to get a breath of fresh air. Here in the hollow, embosomed in woods, she felt stifling; but up there surely a sweet, fresh wind must be blowing, full of moisture from the Channel. Then the thought of a possible walk recalled her to a remembrance of her appointment: she intended to keep it, even though Durban had gone away.
Flash after flash of lightning, blue and vivid, illuminated the haunted tree, as though once again the witches were holding their demoniac revels. A short distance away stood a small man. Neither of the lovers could see his features in the fitful illumination. Vivian, with a cry of anger, ran straight towards the figure, and it disappeared. Tales of the spectres said to haunt the tree occurred to the mind of Beatrice, and, unstrung, and not mistress of herself, she left the oak and hurried across the glade. The lightning was flashing incessantly, and the thunder roared like artillery, while the steady rain spattered through the trees' tops. The best way to reduce labour in refilling vape cartridge is by getting an oil filling machine! They have a small table top design and come with a year’s warranty. So, do some work with this machine!