s considered
the only genteel young, lady-like mode of progression, and its regular
provision the expected courtesy of mankind. Always fastidiously booted,
her low-quartered shoes were charming to the eye, but hardly adapted to
the dust and inequalities of the high-road. It was true that she had
thought of buying a coarser pair at Indian Spring, but once face to
face with their uncompromising ugliness, she had faltered and fled. The
sun was unmistakably hot, but her parasol was too well known and
offered too violent a contrast to the duster for practical use. Once
she stopped with an exclamation of annoyance, hesitated, and looked
back. In half an hour she had twice lost her shoe and her temper; a
pink flush took possession of her cheeks, and her eyes were bright with
suppressed rage. Dust began to form grimy circles around their orbits;
with cat-like shivers she even felt it pervade the roots of her blonde
hair. Gradually her breath grew more rapid and hysterical, her smarting
eyes became humid, and at last, encountering two observant horsemen in
the road, she turned and fled, until, reaching the wood, she began to
cry.
Nevertheless she waited for the two horsemen to pass, to satisfy
herself that she was not followed; then pushed on vaguely, until she
reached a fallen tree, where, with a gesture of disgust, she tore off
her hapless duster and flung it on the ground. She then sat down
sobbing, but after a moment dried her eyes hurriedly and started to her
feet. A few paces distant, erect, noiseless, with outstretched hand,
the young solitary of the Carquinez Woods advanced towards her. His
hand had almost touched hers, when he stopped.
"What has happened?" he asked gravely.
"Nothing," she said, turning half away, and searching the ground with
her eyes, as if she had lost something. "Only I must be going back
now."
"You shall go back at once, if you wish it," he said, flushing
slightly. "But you have been crying; why?"
Frank as Miss Nellie wished to be, she could not bring herself to say
that her feet hurt her, and the dust and heat were ruining her
complexion. It was therefore with a half-confident belief that her
troubles were really of a moral quality that she answered,
"Nothing--nothing, but--but--it's wrong to come here."
"But you did not think it was wrong when you agreed to come, at our
last meeting," said the young man, with that persistent logic which
exasperates the inconsequent feminine mind. "It
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