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The
young
man
understood
and
got
to
his
feet
.
“
Thank
you
,
”
he
said
,
holding
out
his
hand
.
She
seemed
not
to
notice
the
gesture
,
and
turned
away
as
they
opened
the
door
.
The
rain
was
still
coming
down
,
but
they
hardly
noticed
it
:
the
pure
air
was
like
balm
in
their
faces
.
The
clouds
were
rising
and
breaking
,
and
between
their
edges
the
light
streamed
down
from
remote
blue
hollows
.
Harney
untied
the
horse
,
and
they
drove
off
through
the
diminishing
rain
,
which
was
already
beaded
with
sunlight
.
For
a
while
Charity
was
silent
,
and
her
companion
did
not
speak
.
She
looked
timidly
at
his
profile
:
it
was
graver
than
usual
,
as
though
he
too
were
oppressed
by
what
they
had
seen
.
Then
she
broke
out
abruptly
:
“
Those
people
back
there
are
the
kind
of
folks
I
come
from
.
They
may
be
my
relations
,
for
all
I
know
.
”
She
did
not
want
him
to
think
that
she
regretted
having
told
him
her
story
.
“
Poor
creatures
,
”
he
rejoined
.
“
I
wonder
why
they
came
down
to
that
fever
-
hole
.
”
She
laughed
ironically
.
“
To
better
themselves
!
It
’
s
worse
up
on
the
Mountain
.
Bash
Hyatt
married
the
daughter
of
the
farmer
that
used
to
own
the
brown
house
.
That
was
him
by
the
stove
,
I
suppose
.
”
Harney
seemed
to
find
nothing
to
say
and
she
went
on
:
“
I
saw
you
take
out
a
dollar
to
give
to
that
poor
woman
.
Why
did
you
put
it
back
?
”
He
reddened
,
and
leaned
forward
to
flick
a
swamp
-
fly
from
the
horse
’
s
neck
.
“
I
wasn
’
t
sure
—
—
”
“
Was
it
because
you
knew
they
were
my
folks
,
and
thought
I
’
d
be
ashamed
to
see
you
give
them
money
?
”
He
turned
to
her
with
eyes
full
of
reproach
“
Oh
,
Charity
—
—
”
It
was
the
first
time
he
had
ever
called
her
by
her
name
.
Her
misery
welled
over
.
