ly let it appear that he had left because means of
conveyance were hard to find at North Dormer, and because Creston River
was a more convenient centre. He told her that he had hired by the week
the buggy of the freckled boy's father, who served as livery-stable
keeper to one or two melancholy summer boarding-houses on Creston Lake,
and had discovered, within driving distance, a number of houses worthy
of his pencil; and he said that he could not, while he was in the
neighbourhood, give up the pleasure of seeing her as often as possible.

When they took leave of each other she promised to continue to be his
guide; and during the fortnight which followed they roamed the hills in
happy comradeship. In most of the village friendships between youths and
maidens lack of conversation was made up for by tentative fondling; but
Harney, except when he had tried to comfort her in her trouble on their
way back from the Hyatts', had never put his arm about her, or sought
to betray her into any sudden caress. It seemed to be enough for him to
breathe her nearness like a flower's; and since his pleasure at being
with her, and his sense of her youth and her grace, perpetually shone in
his eyes and softened the inflection of his voice, his reserve did not
suggest coldness, but the deference due to a girl of his own class.

The buggy was drawn by an old trotter who whirled them along so briskly
that the pace created a little breeze; but when they reached Hepburn
the full heat of the airless morning descended on them. At the railway
station the platform was packed with a sweltering throng, and they took
refuge in the waiting-room, where there was another throng, already
dejected by the heat and the long waiting for retarded trains. Pale
mothers were struggling with fretful babies, or trying to keep their
older offspring from the fascination of the track; girls and their
"fellows" were giggling and shoving, and passing about candy in sticky
bags, and older men, collarless and perspiring, were shifting heavy
children from one arm to the other, and keeping a haggard eye on the
scattered members of their families.

At last the train rumbled in, and engulfed the waiting multitude. Harney
swept Charity up on to the first car and they captured a bench for
two, and sat in happy isolation while the train swayed and roared along
through rich fields and languid tree-clumps. The haze of the morning
had become a sort of clear tremor over everything,