the shunned
Julia's fate might have its compensations. There were others, worse
endings that the village knew of, mean, miserable, unconfessed; other
lives that went on drearily, without visible change, in the same cramped
setting of hypocrisy. But these were not the reasons that held her
back. Since the day before, she had known exactly what she would feel
if Harney should take her in his arms: the melting of palm into palm and
mouth on mouth, and the long flame burning her from head to foot. But
mixed with this feeling was another: the wondering pride in his liking
for her, the startled softness that his sympathy had put into her heart.
Sometimes, when her youth flushed up in her, she had imagined yielding
like other girls to furtive caresses in the twilight; but she could not
so cheapen herself to Harney. She did not know why he was going; but
since he was going she felt she must do nothing to deface the image of
her that he carried away. If he wanted her he must seek her: he must not
be surprised into taking her as girls like Julia Hawes were taken....

No sound came from the sleeping village, and in the deep darkness of
the garden she heard now and then a secret rustle of branches, as though
some night-bird brushed them. Once a footfall passed the gate, and
she shrank back into her corner; but the steps died away and left a
profounder quiet. Her eyes were still on Harney's tormented face: she
felt she could not move till he moved. But she was beginning to grow
numb from her constrained position, and at times her thoughts were so
indistinct that she seemed to be held there only by a vague weight of
weariness.

A long time passed in this strange vigil. Harney still lay on the bed,
motionless and with fixed eyes, as though following his vision to its
bitter end. At last he stirred and changed his attitude slightly, and
Charity's heart began to tremble. But he only flung out his arms and
sank back into his former position. With a deep sigh he tossed the hair
from his forehead; then his whole body relaxed, his head turned
sideways on the pillow, and she saw that he had fallen asleep. The sweet
expression came back to his lips, and the haggardness faded from his
face, leaving it as fresh as a boy's.

She rose and crept away.

VIII

SHE had lost the sense of time, and did not know how late it was till
she came out into the street and saw that all the windows were dark
between Miss Hatchard's and the Royall h