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The
day
on
which
Charity
Royall
was
weaving
hemlock
garlands
for
the
procession
was
the
last
before
the
celebration
.
When
Miss
Hatchard
called
upon
the
North
Dormer
maidenhood
to
collaborate
in
the
festal
preparations
Charity
had
at
first
held
aloof
;
but
it
had
been
made
clear
to
her
that
her
non
-
appearance
might
excite
conjecture
,
and
,
reluctantly
,
she
had
joined
the
other
workers
.
The
girls
,
at
first
shy
and
embarrassed
,
and
puzzled
as
to
the
exact
nature
of
the
projected
commemoration
,
had
soon
become
interested
in
the
amusing
details
of
their
task
,
and
excited
by
the
notice
they
received
.
They
would
not
for
the
world
have
missed
their
afternoons
at
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
,
and
,
while
they
cut
out
and
sewed
and
draped
and
pasted
,
their
tongues
kept
up
such
an
accompaniment
to
the
sewing
-
machine
that
Charity
’
s
silence
sheltered
itself
unperceived
under
their
chatter
.
In
spirit
she
was
still
almost
unconscious
of
the
pleasant
stir
about
her
.
Since
her
return
to
the
red
house
,
on
the
evening
of
the
day
when
Harney
had
overtaken
her
on
her
way
to
the
Mountain
,
she
had
lived
at
North
Dormer
as
if
she
were
suspended
in
the
void
.
She
had
come
back
there
because
Harney
,
after
appearing
to
agree
to
the
impossibility
of
her
doing
so
,
had
ended
by
persuading
her
that
any
other
course
would
be
madness
.
She
had
nothing
further
to
fear
from
Mr
.
Royall
.
Of
this
she
had
declared
herself
sure
,
though
she
had
failed
to
add
,
in
his
exoneration
,
that
he
had
twice
offered
to
make
her
his
wife
.
Her
hatred
of
him
made
it
impossible
,
at
the
moment
,
for
her
to
say
anything
that
might
partly
excuse
him
in
Harney
’
s
eyes
.
Harney
,
however
,
once
satisfied
of
her
security
,
had
found
plenty
of
reasons
for
urging
her
to
return
.
The
first
,
and
the
most
unanswerable
,
was
that
she
had
nowhere
else
to
go
.
But
the
one
on
which
he
laid
the
greatest
stress
was
that
flight
would
be
equivalent
to
avowal
.
If
—
as
was
almost
inevitable
—
rumours
of
the
scandalous
scene
at
Nettleton
should
reach
North
Dormer
,
how
else
would
her
disappearance
be
interpreted
?
Her
guardian
had
publicly
taken
away
her
character
,
and
she
immediately
vanished
from
his
house
.
Seekers
after
motives
could
hardly
fail
to
draw
an
unkind
conclusion
.
But
if
she
came
back
at
once
,
and
was
seen
leading
her
usual
life
,
the
incident
was
reduced
to
its
true
proportions
,
as
the
outbreak
of
a
drunken
old
man
furious
at
being
surprised
in
disreputable
company
.
People
would
say
that
Mr
.
Royall
had
insulted
his
ward
to
justify
himself
,
and
the
sordid
tale
would
fall
into
its
place
in
the
chronicle
of
his
obscure
debaucheries
.
Charity
saw
the
force
of
the
argument
;
but
if
she
acquiesced
it
was
not
so
much
because
of
that
as
because
it
was
Harney
’
s
wish
.
Since
that
evening
in
the
deserted
house
she
could
imagine
no
reason
for
doing
or
not
doing
anything
except
the
fact
that
Harney
wished
or
did
not
wish
it
.
All
her
tossing
contradictory
impulses
were
merged
in
a
fatalistic
acceptance
of
his
will
.
It
was
not
that
she
felt
in
him
any
ascendancy
of
character
—
there
were
moments
already
when
she
knew
she
was
the
stronger
—
but
that
all
the
rest
of
life
had
become
a
mere
cloudy
rim
about
the
central
glory
of
their
passion
.
Whenever
she
stopped
thinking
about
that
for
a
moment
she
felt
as
she
sometimes
did
after
lying
on
the
grass
and
staring
up
too
long
at
the
sky
;
her
eyes
were
so
full
of
light
that
everything
about
her
was
a
blur
.
Each
time
that
Miss
Hatchard
,
in
the
course
of
her
periodical
incursions
into
the
work
-
room
,
dropped
an
allusion
to
her
young
cousin
,
the
architect
,
the
effect
was
the
same
on
Charity
.
The
hemlock
garland
she
was
wearing
fell
to
her
knees
and
she
sat
in
a
kind
of
trance
.
It
was
so
manifestly
absurd
that
Miss
Hatchard
should
talk
of
Harney
in
that
familiar
possessive
way
,
as
if
she
had
any
claim
on
him
,
or
knew
anything
about
him
.
She
,
Charity
Royall
,
was
the
only
being
on
earth
who
really
knew
him
,
knew
him
from
the
soles
of
his
feet
to
the
rumpled
crest
of
his
hair
,
knew
the
shifting
lights
in
his
eyes
,
and
the
inflexions
of
his
voice
,
and
the
things
he
liked
and
disliked
,
and
everything
there
was
to
know
about
him
,
as
minutely
and
yet
unconsciously
as
a
child
knows
the
walls
of
the
room
it
wakes
up
in
every
morning
.
It
was
this
fact
,
which
nobody
about
her
guessed
,
or
would
have
understood
,
that
made
her
life
something
apart
and
inviolable
,
as
if
nothing
had
any
power
to
hurt
or
disturb
her
as
long
as
her
secret
was
safe
.
The
room
in
which
the
girls
sat
was
the
one
which
had
been
Harney
’
s
bedroom
.
He
had
been
sent
upstairs
,
to
make
room
for
the
Home
Week
workers
;
but
the
furniture
had
not
been
moved
,
and
as
Charity
sat
there
she
had
perpetually
before
her
the
vision
she
had
looked
in
on
from
the
midnight
garden
.
The
table
at
which
Harney
had
sat
was
the
one
about
which
the
girls
were
gathered
;
and
her
own
seat
was
near
the
bed
on
which
she
had
seen
him
lying
.
Sometimes
,
when
the
others
were
not
looking
,
she
bent
over
as
if
to
pick
up
something
,
and
laid
her
cheek
for
a
moment
against
the
pillow
.
Toward
sunset
the
girls
disbanded
.
Their
work
was
done
,
and
the
next
morning
at
daylight
the
draperies
and
garlands
were
to
be
nailed
up
,
and
the
illuminated
scrolls
put
in
place
in
the
Town
Hall
.
The
first
guests
were
to
drive
over
from
Hepburn
in
time
for
the
midday
banquet
under
a
tent
in
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
field
;
and
after
that
the
ceremonies
were
to
begin
.
