She could not remember feeling them much in the weeks that followed her return to the Herringdales , the weeks that had lain flat and stagnant between her husband's funeral and her child's birth .sx All she knew was that they had changed her .sx They had made of her a silent creature , a tearless creature she who hitherto had both talked and wept too much .sx She had not talked , even to Timothy , who had spent a fortnight with her and was shocked at her tormented eyes and silent mouth ; and she had not wept , even when the coffin that held all she had ever known of her husband , slid down into the refuge of the earth he had loved too well .sx On the eve of the child's birth there had been a sudden revival of feeling , an unexplained crisis of sorrow , as it were a messenger .sx But when her labour began her mind laid down its burden , and when the baby was in her arms , everything seemed to have passed , pain of mind with pain of body , leaving her in a drowsy lull of content .sx Yes , she was content , The calm of those days had nothing to do with the flatness of the past weeks .sx With the child her husband seemed to have come back into her life , which had lost its aimlessness .sx She was glad it was a boy not that a girl would have been mere catastrophe , since the land was not entailed , but , of course , the title would have been lost , and the name could only have been preserved by legal artifices and matrimonial bar-gaining .sx Now the thin line of the Mallard Baronets would be continued and perhaps gain thickness and strength with new generations .sx Humphrey Mallard's sacrifice had not been made in vain .sx It was queer , thought Jenny , that she should now find comfort in this in the thought that the two purposes for which he had renounced Isabel Halnaker and married Jenny Bastow had been fulfilled , that Yockletts still remained Mallard land and that the Mallard name still lived at Herringdales .sx The boy seemed to give her back into her married allegiance .sx She felt as if she belonged to Humphrey as much as when he was alive , or rather less to him than to his desires , his .sx pleasures , his ambitions , all the unfulfilment in which he had died .sx Some such emotion must have been unconsciously in her heart even before the birth , for she had deliberately chosen it to take place according to tradition in the great bed of the Squires , when , by virtue of her new freedom , she could have had a modern bed in a sunny room and lived through her hour without shadows or ghosts .sx Now her choice seemed to have reconciled her to the old house and the old bed .sx As she lay there during the long , comfortable days of convalescence she found that her terrors were gone .sx Even the shadow of plumes on the wall in candlelight could not disturb her .sx She felt herself a true Mallard , with her splendid rights , scorning the fears and hesitations of the first months of her marriage .sx She had gone through some process of initiation while she lay between death and life a long line of Mallard ladies now called her sister , and all the pride of the Mallard squires seemed to lie in the baby that slept on her arm .sx Her convalescence was a long one , because she found it too comfortable to hurry over it .sx She lay dreaming away the hours in a relief of mind and body that was nearly perfect rest .sx Her room was full of flowers .sx Touched no doubt by the plight of the girl whose bridehood , widowhood and motherhood had been all so close and the last two in such sinister order the neighbourhood had spent itself in kindness .sx The gardens of Rushlake Manor , of Stream House , of Lion's Green Hall , and many another as well .sx as the lowlier gardens of cottages and farms had been stripped of handfuls and armfuls of spring flowers irises , tulips , hyacinths , syringa , lilac , lupin , rhododendron , every flower of the May borders , from the last daffodil to the first rose , crammed the room with light and colour and perfume .sx Lying there , she dreamed and gazed at their heaped masses , at their empurpled blues , their flame-stroked yellows , their burning mauves , their misted reds and flushed whites at their delicate shapes , their cornets , trumpets , spurs , wings , rings , fans , and crowns .sx They were a beauty that could not hurt her because it could not torment her with thought .sx They came , they went , their masses and colours shifted , names were murmured in her ear names of gardens , friends and flowers .sx She smiled and murmured other names .sx It was all restful and good .sx One evening she woke to find her room all sunshine , and the flames of the flowers burning in it with a smoke of perfume .sx By her bed stood a pyramid of fire , a golden azalea that must have been put there while she slept .sx Its scent came to her delicately , creeping over her pillow as she turned her pleased face towards it .sx In its lower branches was stuck a visiting card , and after some luxurious moments in which languor and curiosity strove pleasantly together , she put out her hand , and took and read it .sx 2 .sx Later on when she was up and well , and tackling the heavy business of returning thanks for all the cards , notes and flowers that had been sent her , she wondered what she should do about Isabel Halnaker's azalea .sx She had not kept it in the room while she was ill she could not bear to look at it when she knew whom it was from .sx She had made some excuse about its wanting more sun than it could get in her rather dim bedchamber , and had had it taken downstairs .sx Then on her first day of recovery she had found it , blazing away like the burning bush in the sunshine of the drawing-room window .sx She had .sx realized that she could not ignore it any longer , but must find some way of dealing with its amazement .sx She told herself angrily that Isabel ought not to have sent it , and that her straightest course was to ignore it .sx It was impossible that there should be even recognition between them after those days in Kent .sx .. Isabel herself should not feel it possible after all , she had suffered as much from Humphrey's wife as ever Humphrey's wife had suffered from her .sx Why was she making this approach ?sx Or was it no approach , but mere convention , done to avoid attracting gossip to herself by doing differently from her neighbours ?sx Somehow she could not quite believe that of Isabel , even now when she believed so much that was bad .sx She could not deny her secret conviction that the gesture had been deliberate a token of friendship ?sx pity ?sx repentance ?sx what ?sx She did not know , and her curiosity was troubled .sx She finally decided to send just an ordinary card , one of the number she had had printed to distribute among those who had sent no more than cards to the flower-senders she was writing little notes , but she could not write to Mrs. Halnaker .sx All she could do , she reflected as she slipped the card into its envelope was to add " and flowers " to the printed return of her thanks for kind inquiries .sx She took up her pen to do so , and as she moved , saw the azalea burning in the window , each delicate horn of flame sending as it were the very secret perfume of the sun itself into the air .sx She felt the beauty touch her , and her hands trembled .sx A mist of tears suddenly veiled .sx her eyes and for one moment it was a mist of rain , and through it she saw a carriage driving up a hill , and a woman's white face at the glassless window .sx .. Was she the one to be cruel ?sx Had she the right to be hard ?sx To turn herself in hardness and contempt from this woman whom she had made to suffer so ?sx After all , it was she who had brought their sorrow upon them both but for her bitter and senseless words to Humphrey he would not have gone away to Yockletts , and it was Yockletts and his uncared-for loneliness there in the great rain that had given him his death .sx She had served Isabel more cruelly than Isabel had served her , for she had struck deliberately , at a woman whom she knew not merely followed a course which without her foreseeing had ended in another woman's grief .sx She coloured with uneasiness and shame , and all the time she fumbled her pen , not knowing whether to write a note after all , hesitating , but not daring , feeling herself quite unable .sx Finally she wrote on the card " and lovely flowers " hoping that Mrs. Halnaker would read all there was in the extra word .sx 3 .sx Two days later a letter came from Isabel .sx Jenny knew whom it was from when she saw the postmark of Rushlake Green , and her hands trembled as she began to open it .sx Then she suddenly saw the sweet revenge of returning it unopened .sx How dared this woman write to her ?sx She must deal with the situation at once show her that there could never be peace between them .sx Then she remembered that she herself had prepared the way to peace by meeting Mrs. Halnaker's first advance .sx This letter only meant that Isabel had read the message there was in one adjective .sx .. and , after all , she had already tasted revenge , and it had not been sweet , but salt with tears and bitter with regret .sx She opened the letter .sx .sx It was only a few lines , asking if the writer might be allowed to come and see Lady Mallard one day .sx " I know that from the usual point of view I have no right to ask this , but I'm hoping you will allow me , as there are one or two important things I want to say to you , and I think that on the whole you will be glad to hear them .sx " " Oh , no , no !sx " cried Jenny , out loud in her panic , " I can't see you I won't hear them .sx " But half an hour's reflection changed her mind .sx She began to see her attitude to Isabel as part of the silly childishness she had hoped was passing away .sx After all , a meeting of some sort between them was inevitable she could not live on at Herringdales and never meet Mrs. Halnaker , and it was far better that their first encounter should be in private .sx She could then deliberately plan their future relations she saw now that the cut direct was out of the question , it would be merely to expose her husband's memory and her own humiliation .sx She would have to maintain at least a public intercourse with Old Mogador , and that intercourse would be full of fears and uncertainties if she did not lay its foundations in a private understanding .sx Her reply was rather stiff .sx She would be pleased to see Mrs. Halnaker next Thursday at eleven-thirty .sx That was a strictly non-social hour .sx She felt that she was committing herself to no definite policy beyond that already involved in her compassion .sx She told herself that she was only being fair to Isabel giving her a chance to explain since she wanted to .sx .. which was odd .sx She would not , acknowledge even to herself that her curiosity was .sx .sx involved , that she longed to know what were the " one or two important things " that Isabel meant to say and that she would be " glad to hear .sx " On Thursday morning she was pale with agitation , and at first uncertain as to whether she should prepare the servants for Mrs. Halnaker's visit , or let it take them , and presumably herself , by surprise .sx She wondered how much they knew .sx .. " ask the servants " that echo was growing dim .sx .. but now that Humphrey was dead and there was no master of the house , it might be a good excuse for pensioning off old Harris the butler and engaging a really efficient parlour-maid in his stead .sx