Reseña del libro "The Virgin and the Gipsy (en Inglés)"
When the vicar's wife went off with a young and penniless man, the scandal knew no bounds. Her two little girls were only seven and nine years old, respectively. And the vicar was such a good husband. True, his hair was grey. But his mustache was dark, he was handsome, and still full of furtive passion for his unrestrained and beautiful wife.
Why did she go? Why did she burst away with such a quality of revulsion, like a touch of madness?
Nobody gave any answer. Only the pious said she was a wicked woman. While some of the good women kept silent. They knew.
The two little girls never knew. Wounded, they decided it was because their mother found them negligible.
The ill wind that blows nobody any good swept away the vicarage family on its blast. Then lo-and-behold! the vicar, who was distinguished as an essayist and a controversialist, and whose case had aroused sympathy among the bookish men, received the living of Papplewick. The Lord had tempered the wind of misfortune with a rectorate in the north country.
The rectory was an ugly stone house down by the river people before you came into the village. Further on, beyond where the road crosses the stream, where the big old stone cotton mills, once driven by water. The road curved uphill, into the bleak stone streets of the village.
The vicarage family received a decided modification, upon its transference into the rectory. The vicar, now the rector, fetched up his old mother and his sister, and a brother from the city. The two little girls had a quite different milieu from the old home.