itely, and tell the truth if possible, instead of
making some sulky evasion, as she had begun to do when there was no
other way of keeping the peace. She was fearlessly honest by nature,
but as she approached maturity, she lost her nerve for a time, and
during that time she lied, on occasion, to escape a harrowing scene.
She always despised herself for it, however, and therefore, as she
grew stronger, she became her natural straightforward self again,
only, if anything, all the more scrupulously accurate for the
degrading experience. For she soon perceived that there is nothing
that damages the character like the habit of untruth; the man or woman
who makes a false excuse has already begun to deteriorate. If a census
could be taken to establish the grounds upon which people are
considered noble or ignoble, we should find it was in exact proportion
to the amount of confidence that can be placed first of all in their
sincerity, and then in their accuracy. Sincerity claims respect for
character, accuracy estimation for ability; no high-minded person was
ever insincere, and no fool was ever accurate.

When the close season began, Beth left the plantations, and took to
fishing in the sea. She would sit at the end of the pier in fine
weather, baiting her hooks with great fat lob-worms she had dug up out
of the sands at low tide, and watching her lines all by herself; or,
if it were rough, she would fish in the harbour from the steps up
against the wooden jetty, where the sailors hung about all day long
with their hands in their pockets when the boats were in. Some of them
would sit with her, all in a row, fishing too, and they would exchange
bait with her, and give her good advice, while others stood behind
looking on and listening. And as of old in Ireland she had fascinated
the folk, so here again these great simple bearded men listened with
wondering interest to her talk, and never answered at all as if they
were speaking to a child. Beth heard some queer things, sitting down
there by the old wooden jetty, fishing for anything she could catch,
and she said some queer things too when the mood was upon her.

Sometimes, when she wanted to be alone and think, she would go off to
the rocks that appeared at low-water down behind the south pier, and
fish there. She loved this spot; it was near to nature, yet not remote
from the haunts of man. She sat there one afternoon, holding her line,
and dreamily watching the fishing boats