Лето
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Charitywasinstinctivelyawarethatfewthingsconcerningherescapedtheeyesofthesilentmanunderwhoseroofshelived;andinspiteofthelatitudewhichNorthDormeraccordedtocourtingcouplesshehadalwaysfeltthat,onthedaywhensheshowedtooopenapreference,Mr.Royallmight,asshephrasedit,makeher“payforit.”How,shedidnotknow;andherfearwasthegreaterbecauseitwasundefinable.Ifshehadbeenacceptingtheattentionsofoneofthevillageyouthsshewouldhavebeenlessapprehensive:Mr.Royallcouldnotpreventhermarryingwhenshechoseto.Buteverybodyknewthat“goingwithacityfellow”wasadifferentandlessstraightforwardaffair:almosteveryvillagecouldshowavictimoftheperilousventure.AndherdreadofMr.Royall’sinterventiongaveasharpenedjoytothehoursshespentwithyoungHarney,andmadeher,atthesametime,shyofbeingtoogenerallyseenwithhim.
Asheapproachedsherosetoherknees,stretchingherarmsaboveherheadwiththeindolentgesturethatwasherwayofexpressingaprofoundwell-being.
“I’mgoingtotakeyoutothathouseupunderPorcupine,”sheannounced.
“Whathouse?Oh,yes;thatramshackleplaceneartheswamp,withthegipsy-lookingpeoplehangingabout.It’scuriousthatahousewithtracesofrealarchitectureshouldhavebeenbuiltinsuchaplace.Butthepeoplewereasulky-lookinglot—doyousupposethey’llletusin?”
“They’lldowhateverItellthem,”shesaidwithassurance.
Hethrewhimselfdownbesideher.“Willthey?”herejoinedwithasmile.
