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“
I
suppose
she
’
ll
be
coming
up
here
later
to
stay
with
Miss
Hatchard
?
”
Mr
.
Miles
went
on
,
following
on
his
train
of
thought
;
then
,
spinning
about
and
tilting
his
head
back
:
“
Yes
,
yes
,
I
see
—
I
understand
:
that
will
give
a
draught
without
materially
altering
the
look
of
things
.
I
can
see
no
objection
.
”
The
discussion
went
on
for
some
minutes
,
and
gradually
the
two
men
moved
back
toward
the
desk
.
Mr
.
Miles
stopped
again
and
looked
thoughtfully
at
Charity
.
“
Aren
’
t
you
a
little
pale
,
my
dear
?
Not
overworking
?
Mr
.
Harney
tells
me
you
and
Mamie
are
giving
the
library
a
thorough
overhauling
.
”
He
was
always
careful
to
remember
his
parishioners
’
Christian
names
,
and
at
the
right
moment
he
bent
his
benignant
spectacles
on
the
Targatt
girl
.
Then
he
turned
to
Charity
.
“
Don
’
t
take
things
hard
,
my
dear
;
don
’
t
take
things
hard
.
Come
down
and
see
Mrs
.
Miles
and
me
some
day
at
Hepburn
,
”
he
said
,
pressing
her
hand
and
waving
a
farewell
to
Mamie
Targatt
.
He
went
out
of
the
library
,
and
Harney
followed
him
.
Charity
thought
she
detected
a
look
of
constraint
in
Harney
’
s
eyes
.
She
fancied
he
did
not
want
to
be
alone
with
her
;
and
with
a
sudden
pang
she
wondered
if
he
repented
the
tender
things
he
had
said
to
her
the
night
before
.
His
words
had
been
more
fraternal
than
lover
-
like
;
but
she
had
lost
their
exact
sense
in
the
caressing
warmth
of
his
voice
.
He
had
made
her
feel
that
the
fact
of
her
being
a
waif
from
the
Mountain
was
only
another
reason
for
holding
her
close
and
soothing
her
with
consolatory
murmurs
;
and
when
the
drive
was
over
,
and
she
got
out
of
the
buggy
,
tired
,
cold
,
and
aching
with
emotion
,
she
stepped
as
if
the
ground
were
a
sunlit
wave
and
she
the
spray
on
its
crest
.
Why
,
then
,
had
his
manner
suddenly
changed
,
and
why
did
he
leave
the
library
with
Mr
.
Miles
?
Her
restless
imagination
fastened
on
the
name
of
Annabel
Balch
:
from
the
moment
it
had
been
mentioned
she
fancied
that
Harney
’
s
expression
had
altered
.
Annabel
Balch
at
a
garden
-
party
at
Springfield
,
looking
“
extremely
handsome
”
.
.
.
perhaps
Mr
.
Miles
had
seen
her
there
at
the
very
moment
when
Charity
and
Harney
were
sitting
in
the
Hyatts
’
hovel
,
between
a
drunkard
and
a
half
-
witted
old
woman
!
Charity
did
not
know
exactly
what
a
garden
-
party
was
,
but
her
glimpse
of
the
flower
-
edged
lawns
of
Nettleton
helped
her
to
visualize
the
scene
,
and
envious
recollections
of
the
“
old
things
”
which
Miss
Balch
avowedly
“
wore
out
”
when
she
came
to
North
Dormer
made
it
only
too
easy
to
picture
her
in
her
splendour
.
Charity
understood
what
associations
the
name
must
have
called
up
,
and
felt
the
uselessness
of
struggling
against
the
unseen
influences
in
Harney
’
s
life
.
When
she
came
down
from
her
room
for
supper
he
was
not
there
;
and
while
she
waited
in
the
porch
she
recalled
the
tone
in
which
Mr
.
Royall
had
commented
the
day
before
on
their
early
start
.
Mr
.
Royall
sat
at
her
side
,
his
chair
tilted
back
,
his
broad
black
boots
with
side
-
elastics
resting
against
the
lower
bar
of
the
railings
.
His
rumpled
grey
hair
stood
up
above
his
forehead
like
the
crest
of
an
angry
bird
,
and
the
leather
-
brown
of
his
veined
cheeks
was
blotched
with
red
.
Charity
knew
that
those
red
spots
were
the
signs
of
a
coming
explosion
.
Suddenly
he
said
:
“
Where
’
s
supper
?
Has
Verena
Marsh
slipped
up
again
on
her
soda
-
biscuits
?
”
Charity
threw
a
startled
glance
at
him
.
“
I
presume
she
’
s
waiting
for
Mr
.
Harney
.
”
