It was not however the strength of her love to God that made her
unhappy in being thus barred out from him. It was rather the check thus
given to the whole upward tendency of her being, with its multitude of
undefined hopes and longings now drawing nigh to the birth. It was in
her ideal self rather than her conscious self that her misery arose.
And now, dearly as she loved Mr Cowie, she began to doubt whether he
knew much about the matter. He had put her off without answering her
questions, either because he thought she had no business with such
things, or because he had no answer to give. This latter possibly added
not a little to her unhappiness, for it gave birth to a fearful doubt
as to the final safety of kind Mr Cowie himself.
But there was one man who knew more about such secret things, she fully
believed, than any man alive; and that man was Thomas Crann. Thomas was
a rather dreadful man, with his cold eyes, high shoulders, and wheezing
breath; and Annie was afraid of him. But she would have encountered the
terrors of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, as surely as the Pilgrim,
to get rid of the demon nightmare that lay upon her bosom, crushing the
life out of her heart.
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