Chapter 49

Her aunt, riding backward uncomfortably through Virginia landscapes because she insisted that Lisbeth lie down on the forward riding drawing room seat, thought Lisbeth was beginning to look old, and that that was sad, because she was only twenty-four. But her sort of blondness faded soon. Lisbeth thought, “I must not remember Stephen. It is bad for the child to let myself be disturbed. After the child is born, I can remember Stephen.” The child stirred within her, and it was easy to forget Stephen. She sat feeling …