Though it seemed impossible, the sun continued to rise and to set, the seasons to progress, as though my life had not been unbearably altered. Spring came to Brianag, and the blossoms of the plum trees, the yellow-green leaves of the cypress, and baby ducks on the swamp. Catherine came with young James and the news of a new bairn on the way.
Kevin and my father came often to supper, and August visited when the roads were passable. Brianag stood as it had done for the past quarter-century, and the fields produced, and people lived and grew; but with Robbie not there, I found no joy in the cycle of the seasons.
The pain of Robbie's rejection had eased; I no longer felt each beat of my heart as the stab of a knife, the blow of an axe. I ate, I slept, I did needlework, played pianoforte, sang with the family. I helped Mrs. Randall with the work of the household, willingly taking from her whatever work she offered.
She and Mr. Randall were quite satisfied that Robbie should remain in the back country; they were happy that he was alive and well. He wrote to us once, in the middle of the month of February, to tell us that he was nearly completely well, and to say that he would surely be home in the spring.
The first day of May arrived and passed, with the appropriate celebration; I wondered where he was, what he was doing. I thought of Eco, and Old Creek Woman, and the story they had told to me. It now seemed like an event from a dream; at times I doubted that it had actually occurred. Robbie did not love me, and never had. When I thought of how he had called my name when he was sick, I attributed it to the senseless wanderings of a feverish mind.
And so I made up my mind to honor my promise to God, and applied myself to becoming the best daughter that I could be to the Randalls, and to my own father. I played with James, who was learning to walk, when Cathy came to visit, and went with Mrs.
Randall on shopping trips to Charlestown. Kevin and I visited at Shannon's Loch. The days warmed, and May gave way to June.
We began to plan the Midsummer ball. Gowns and hair fashions were discussed.
Cathy was feeling somewhat nauseous; she came to stay at Brianag so that her mother and I could mind James when she was unwell. We sat on the back terrace above the lawn on fine days, working on our sewing. The lawn was lush and green. On wet days we played cards in the drawing room. James took his first steps. Fresh vegetables appeared on the table. The days grew quite warm.