The old sway of evil passion reasserted itself . `` She shall never come back here -- never . Oh , she was a sweet-spoken cat of a thing -- but she had claws . I 've been blamed for all the trouble . But if ever I had a chance , I 'd tell that minister how she used to twit and taunt me in that sugary way of hers -- how she schemed and plotted against me as long as she could . More fool I to care what he thinks either ! I wish I were dead . If 't was n't for the child , I 'd go and drown myself at that black spring-hole down there -- I 'd be well out of the way . '' * * * * * It was a dull grey afternoon a week afterwards when Allan Telford again walked up the river road to the Palmer place . The wind was bitter and he walked with bent head to avoid its fury . His face was pale and worn and he looked years older . He paused at the rough gate and leaned over it while he scanned the house and its surroundings eagerly . As he looked , the kitchen door opened and Min , clad in the old overcoat , came out and walked swiftly across the yard . Telford 's eyes followed her with pitiful absorption . He saw her lead a horse from the stable and harness it into a wood-sleigh loaded with bags of grain . Once she paused to fling her arms about the animal 's neck , laying her face against it with a caressing motion . The pale minister groaned aloud . He longed to snatch her forever from that hard , unwomanly toil and fold her safely away from jeers and scorn in the shelter of his love . He knew it was madness -- he had told himself so every hour in which Min 's dark , rebellious face had haunted him -- yet none the less was he under its control . Min led the horse across the yard and left it standing before the kitchen door ; she had not seen the bowed figure at the gate .
When she reappeared , he saw her dark eyes and the rose-red lustre XXXXX her face gleam out from under the old crimson shawl wrapped about her head .
If across as at down for in of that to