oman again?'"

"I think I had better stay for the present," Charlotte replied.

"Of course--I know you do better for him--than anybody else could,
but--"

"How is Rebecca?" asked Charlotte.

"She is getting along pretty well, but it's slow. She's kind of
worried about you, you know. She's had considerable herself to bear.
It's hard to have folks--" William stopped short, his face burning.

"I am not afraid, if I know I am doing what is right," said
Charlotte. "You tell Rebecca I am coming in to see her as soon as I
can get a chance."

One contingency had never occurred to Barney in his helpless clinging
to Charlotte. He had never once dreamed that people might talk
disparagingly about her in consequence. He had, partly from his
isolated life, partly from natural bent, a curious innocence and
ignorance in his conception of human estimates of conduct. He had not
the same vantage-points with many other people, and indeed in many
cases seemed to hold the identical ones which he had chosen when a
child and first observed anything.

If now and then he overheard a word of expostulation, he never
interpreted it rightly. He thought that people considered it wrong
for Charlotte to do so much for him, and weary herself, when he had
treated her so badly. And he agreed with them.

He thought that he should never stand upright again. He went always
before his own mental vision bent over like his grandfather, his face
inclined ever downward towards his miserable future.

Still, as he sat after William had gotten him up in the morning,
bowed over pitifully in his chair, there was at times a strange look
in his eyes as he watched Charlotte moving about, which seemed
somehow to give the lie to his bent back. Often Charlotte would start
as she met this look, and think involuntarily that he was quite
straight; then she would come to her old vision with a shock, and see
him sitting there as he was.

At last there came a day when the minister and one of the deacons of
the church called and asked to see Charlotte privately. Barney looked
at them, startled and quite white. They sat with him quite a long
while, when, after many coercive glances between the deacon and the
minister, the latter had finally arisen and made the request, in a
trembling, embarrassed voice.

Charlotte led them at once into the unfinished front parlor, with its
boarded-up windows. Barney heard her open the front door to give them
light and air. He sat sti