A moment later she heard the receding beat of his horse's hoofs on the road.
She opened the drawer of a brass-handled cabinet, and after a moment's critical survey of her picture in the dead man's locket, tossed it and the letter into the recesses of the drawer.

Then she stopped, removed her little slipper from her foot, looked at THAT, too, thoughtfully, and called "Sophy!" "Miss Sally ?" said the girl, reappearing at the door.
"Are you sure you did not move that ladder ?" "I 'clare to goodness, Miss Sally, I never teched it!" Miss Sally directed a critical glance at her handmaiden's red-coifed head.

"No," she said to herself softly, "it felt nicer than wool, anyway!".