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When
Ally
left
her
,
she
fell
sobbing
across
her
bed
.
The
long
storm
was
followed
by
a
north
-
west
gale
,
and
when
it
was
over
,
the
hills
took
on
their
first
umber
tints
,
the
sky
grew
more
densely
blue
,
and
the
big
white
clouds
lay
against
the
hills
like
snow
-
banks
.
The
first
crisp
maple
-
leaves
began
to
spin
across
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
lawn
,
and
the
Virginia
creeper
on
the
Memorial
splashed
the
white
porch
with
scarlet
.
It
was
a
golden
triumphant
September
.
Day
by
day
the
flame
of
the
Virginia
creeper
spread
to
the
hillsides
in
wider
waves
of
carmine
and
crimson
,
the
larches
glowed
like
the
thin
yellow
halo
about
a
fire
,
the
maples
blazed
and
smouldered
,
and
the
black
hemlocks
turned
to
indigo
against
the
incandescence
of
the
forest
.
The
nights
were
cold
,
with
a
dry
glitter
of
stars
so
high
up
that
they
seemed
smaller
and
more
vivid
.
Sometimes
,
as
Charity
lay
sleepless
on
her
bed
through
the
long
hours
,
she
felt
as
though
she
were
bound
to
those
wheeling
fires
and
swinging
with
them
around
the
great
black
vault
.
At
night
she
planned
many
things
.
.
.
it
was
then
she
wrote
to
Harney
.
But
the
letters
were
never
put
on
paper
,
for
she
did
not
know
how
to
express
what
she
wanted
to
tell
him
.
So
she
waited
.
Since
her
talk
with
Ally
she
had
felt
sure
that
Harney
was
engaged
to
Annabel
Balch
,
and
that
the
process
of
“
settling
things
”
would
involve
the
breaking
of
this
tie
.
Her
first
rage
of
jealousy
over
,
she
felt
no
fear
on
this
score
.
She
was
still
sure
that
Harney
would
come
back
,
and
she
was
equally
sure
that
,
for
the
moment
at
least
,
it
was
she
whom
he
loved
and
not
Miss
Balch
.
Yet
the
girl
,
no
less
,
remained
a
rival
,
since
she
represented
all
the
things
that
Charity
felt
herself
most
incapable
of
understanding
or
achieving
.
Annabel
Balch
was
,
if
not
the
girl
Harney
ought
to
marry
,
at
least
the
kind
of
girl
it
would
be
natural
for
him
to
marry
.
Charity
had
never
been
able
to
picture
herself
as
his
wife
;
had
never
been
able
to
arrest
the
vision
and
follow
it
out
in
its
daily
consequences
;
but
she
could
perfectly
imagine
Annabel
Balch
in
that
relation
to
him
.
The
more
she
thought
of
these
things
the
more
the
sense
of
fatality
weighed
on
her
:
she
felt
the
uselessness
of
struggling
against
the
circumstances
.
She
had
never
known
how
to
adapt
herself
;
she
could
only
break
and
tear
and
destroy
.
The
scene
with
Ally
had
left
her
stricken
with
shame
at
her
own
childish
savagery
.
What
would
Harney
have
thought
if
he
had
witnessed
it
?
But
when
she
turned
the
incident
over
in
her
puzzled
mind
she
could
not
imagine
what
a
civilized
person
would
have
done
in
her
place
.
She
felt
herself
too
unequally
pitted
against
unknown
forces
.
.
.
.
At
length
this
feeling
moved
her
to
sudden
action
.
She
took
a
sheet
of
letter
paper
from
Mr
.
Royall
’
s
office
,
and
sitting
by
the
kitchen
lamp
,
one
night
after
Verena
had
gone
to
bed
,
began
her
first
letter
to
Harney
.
It
was
very
short
:
I
want
you
should
marry
Annabel
Balch
if
you
promised
to
.
I
think
maybe
you
were
afraid
I
’
d
feel
too
bad
about
it
.
I
feel
I
’
d
rather
you
acted
right
.
Your
loving
CHARITY
.
She
posted
the
letter
early
the
next
morning
,
and
for
a
few
days
her
heart
felt
strangely
light
.
Then
she
began
to
wonder
why
she
received
no
answer
.
One
day
as
she
sat
alone
in
the
library
pondering
these
things
the
walls
of
books
began
to
spin
around
her
,
and
the
rosewood
desk
to
rock
under
her
elbows
.
The
dizziness
was
followed
by
a
wave
of
nausea
like
that
she
had
felt
on
the
day
of
the
exercises
in
the
Town
Hall
.
But
the
Town
Hall
had
been
crowded
and
stiflingly
hot
,
and
the
library
was
empty
,
and
so
chilly
that
she
had
kept
on
her
jacket
.
Five
minutes
before
she
had
felt
perfectly
well
;
and
now
it
seemed
as
if
she
were
going
to
die
.
The
bit
of
lace
at
which
she
still
languidly
worked
dropped
from
her
fingers
,
and
the
steel
crochet
hook
clattered
to
the
floor
.
She
pressed
her
temples
hard
between
her
damp
hands
,
steadying
herself
against
the
desk
while
the
wave
of
sickness
swept
over
her
.
Little
by
little
it
subsided
,
and
after
a
few
minutes
she
stood
up
,
shaken
and
terrified
,
groped
for
her
hat
,
and
stumbled
out
into
the
air
.
But
the
whole
sunlit
autumn
whirled
,
reeled
and
roared
around
her
as
she
dragged
herself
along
the
interminable
length
of
the
road
home
.
As
she
approached
the
red
house
she
saw
a
buggy
standing
at
the
door
,
and
her
heart
gave
a
leap
.
But
it
was
only
Mr
.
Royall
who
got
out
,
his
travelling
-
bag
in
hand
.
He
saw
her
coming
,
and
waited
in
the
porch
.
She
was
conscious
that
he
was
looking
at
her
intently
,
as
if
there
was
something
strange
in
her
appearance
,
and
she
threw
back
her
head
with
a
desperate
effort
at
ease
.
Their
eyes
met
,
and
she
said
:
“
You
back
?
”
as
if
nothing
had
happened
,
and
he
answered
:
“
Yes
,
I
’
m
back
,
”
and
walked
in
ahead
of
her
,
pushing
open
the
door
of
his
office
.
