s of russet-and-gold and deep crimson; the leaves had not
fallen. In the sunlit spaces between the trees grew clumps of blue
asters. She saw a squirrel sitting quite motionless on a bough over
her head, with bright eyes of inquisitive fear upon her. She felt a
sense of delight, and withal a slight tinge of loneliness and risk.
There was no doubt that it was not altogether wise, perhaps not safe,
for a girl to leave the highway, or even to walk upon it if it were
not thickly bordered by dwellings, in this state. Charlotte was
fearless, yet her imagination was a lively one. She looked about her
with keen enjoyment, yet there was a sharp wariness in her glance
akin to that of the squirrel. When she heard on the road the rattle
of wheels, and caught the flash of revolving spokes in the sun, she
had a sensation of relief. There was not a house in sight, except far
to the left, where she could just discern the slant of a barn roof
through the trees. Everything was very still. While there was no
wind, it was cool in the shade, though hot in the sunlight. She
pulled her jacket over her shoulders. She leaned against a tree and
remained perfectly quiet. She had on a muslin gown of an
indeterminate green color, and it shaded perfectly into the coloring
of the tree-trunk, which was slightly mossy. Her dark head, too, was
almost indistinguishable against the tree, which at that height was
nearly black. In fact, she became almost invisible from that most
curious system of concealment in the world, that of assimilation with
nature. She was gathered so closely into the arms of the great mother
that she seemed one with her. And she was not alone in the shelter of
those mighty arms; there was the squirrel, as indistinguishable as
she. And there was another.

Charlotte with her bright, wary eyes, and the little animal with his,
in the tree, became aware of another sentient thing besides
themselves. Possibly the squirrel had been aware of it all the time.

Suddenly the girl looked downward at her right and saw within a
stone's-throw a man asleep. He was dressed in an ancient,
greenish-brown suit, and was practically invisible. His arm was
thrown over his weather-beaten face and he was sleeping soundly,
lying in a position as grotesquely distorted as some old tree-root.
He was, in fact, distorted by the storms of life within and without.
He was evidently a tramp, and possibly worse. His sleeping face could
be read like a page of evil lore