Before that lay the garden. The ranks of pease and
beans were in white blossom, and there was a pale shimmer as of a
cobweb veil over it.
Charlotte had passed the garden when she heard a voice behind her:
"Charlotte!"
She stopped, and Barney came up.
"Good-evening," said he.
"Good-evening," said Charlotte.
"I saw you going by," said Barney. Then he paused again, and
Charlotte waited.
"I saw you going by," he repeated, "and--I thought I'd like to speak
to you. I wanted to thank you for what you did--about mother."
"You're very welcome," replied Charlotte.
Barney ground a stone beneath his heel. "I sha'n't ever forget it,
and--father won't, either," he said. His voice trembled, and yet
there was a certain doggedness in it.
Charlotte stood waiting. Barney turned slowly away. "Good-night," he
said.
"Good-night," returned Charlotte, quickly, and she fairly sprang away
from him and down the road. Her limbs trembled, but she held her head
up proudly. She understood it all perfectly. Barney had meant to
inform her that his behavior towards her on the day his mother died
had been due to a momentary weakness; that she was to expect nothing
further. She went on to the store and did her errand, then went home.
As she entered the kitchen her mother came through from the front
room. She had been sitting at a window watching for Charlotte to
return; she thought Barney might be with her.
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