CHARITY sat the trying on a which Ally Hawes, with much secrecy, had for her. It was of white straw, with a and cherry-coloured that her like the of the on the mantelpiece.
She the square of looking-glass against Mr. Royall's black leather Bible, it in with a white on which a view of the Brooklyn Bridge was painted; and she sat her reflection, the this way and that, while Ally Hawes's looked over her like the of opportunities.
“I look awful, don't I?” she said at last with a happy sigh.
Ally and took the hat. “I'll the roses on right here, so's you can put it away at once.”
Charity laughed, and ran her through her dark hair. She that Harney liked to see its about her and into little at the nape. She sat on her and Ally over the with a frown.
“Don't you like going to Nettleton for a day?” she asked.
Ally her without looking up. “No, I always that time I with Julia—to that doctor's.”
“Oh, Ally——”
“I can't help it. The house is on the of Wing Street and Lake Avenue. The from the station goes right by it, and the day the minister took us to see those pictures I it right off, and couldn't to see anything else. There's a big black with gold all across the front—'Private Consultations.' She came as near as anything to dying....”
“Poor Julia!” Charity from the of her purity and her security. She had a friend she and who her. She was going with him to the next day—the Fourth of July—at Nettleton. Whose was it but hers, and what was the harm? The of it was that girls like Julia did not know how to choose, and to keep at a distance.... Charity from the bed, and out her hands.
“Is it sewed? Let me try it on again.” She put the on, and at her image. The of Julia had vanished....
The next she was up dawn, and saw the yellow the hills, and the a day across the sleeping fields.
Her plans had been with great care. She had that she was going to the Band of Hope at Hepburn, and as no one else from North Dormer to so it was not likely that her from the would be reported. Besides, if it were she would not care. She was to her independence, and if she to about the Hepburn it was from the that her the of her happiness. Whenever she was with Lucius Harney she would have liked some to her.
It was that she should walk to a point of the Creston road where Harney was to her up and drive her across the to Hepburn in time for the nine-thirty train to Nettleton. Harney at had been about the trip. He himself to take her to Nettleton, but her not to go on the Fourth of July, on account of the crowds, the of the trains, the of her night; but her him to give way, and to affect a for the adventure. She why he was not more eager: he must have which a Fourth of July at Nettleton would tame. But she had anything; and a great her to walk the of a big town on a holiday, to his arm and by in their best clothes. The only cloud on the was the that the shops would be closed; but she he would take her another day, when they were open.
She started out in the early sunlight, through the while Verena above the stove. To avoid notice, she her new up, and had a long of Mrs. Royall's over the new white dress which Ally's had for her. All of the ten Mr. Royall had her, and a part of her own savings as well, had been on her wardrobe; and when Harney jumped out of the to meet her she read her in his eyes.
The boy who had her the note two was to wait with the at Hepburn till their return. He at Charity's feet, his the wheels, and they not say much of his presence. But it did not matter, for their past was now rich to have them a private language; and with the long day them like the the there was a in postponement.
When Charity, in response to Harney's message, had gone to meet him at the Creston her had been so full of and anger that his might easily have her. But it that he had the right word, which was one of friendship. His had her, and put her in the wrong. He had no to what had passed Mr. Royall and himself, but had let it appear that he had left means of were hard to at North Dormer, and Creston River was a more centre. He told her that he had by the week the of the boy's father, who as livery-stable to one or two boarding-houses on Creston Lake, and had discovered, distance, a number of houses of his pencil; and he said that he not, while he was in the neighbourhood, give up the of her as often as possible.
When they took of each other she promised to continue to be his guide; and the which they the in happy comradeship. In most of the village and of was up for by fondling; but Harney, when he had to her in her trouble on their way from the Hyatts', had put his arm about her, or to her into any caress. It to be for him to breathe her like a flower's; and since his at being with her, and his of her and her grace, in his and the of his voice, his did not coldness, but the to a girl of his own class.
The was by an old who them along so that the a little breeze; but when they Hepburn the full of the on them. At the railway station the was packed with a throng, and they took in the waiting-room, where there was another throng, already by the and the long waiting for trains. Pale mothers were with babies, or trying to keep their older from the of the track; girls and their “fellows” were and shoving, and about in bags, and older men, and perspiring, were shifting children from one arm to the other, and a on the members of their families.
At last the train in, and the waiting multitude. Harney Charity up on to the car and they a bench for two, and sat in happy while the train and along through rich and tree-clumps. The of the had a of clear over everything, like the about a flame; and the to under it. But to Charity the was a stimulant: it the whole world in the same that at her heart. Now and then a of the train her against Harney, and through her thin she the touch of his sleeve. She herself, their met, and the of the day to them.
The train into the Nettleton station, the them on its tide, and they were out into a square with “hacks” and long by with fly-nets over their withers, who their from to side.
A of 'bus and were “To the Eagle House,” “To the Washington House,” “This way to the Lake,” “Just starting for Greytop;” and through their came the of fire-crackers, the of torpedoes, the of toy-guns, and the crash of a firemen's trying to play the Merry Widow while they were being packed into a with bunting.
The about the square were all with and paper lanterns, and as Harney and Charity into the main street, with its and out the old low-storied shops, and its with that to and in the heat, they saw the line of and away to the park at the other end of the perspective. The noise and colour of this to Nettleton into a metropolis. Charity not that Springfield or Boston had anything to show, and she if, at this very moment, Annabel Balch, on the arm of as a man, were her way through as resplendent.
“Where shall we go first?” Harney asked; but as she her happy on him he the answer and said: “We'll take a look round, shall we?”
The with their fellow-travellers, with other from other directions, with Nettleton's own population, and with the mill-hands in from the on the Creston. The shops were closed, but one would have noticed it, so were the doors open on saloons, on restaurants, on drug-stores from every soda-water tap, on fruit and shops with strawberry-cake, drops, of candy, boxes of and chewing-gum, of strawberries, and of bananas. Outside of some of the doors were with banked-up and apples, and raspberries; and the air with the of fruit and coffee, and and potatoes.
Even the shops that were closed offered, through wide of plate-glass, of riches. In some, of and over of from which rose like orchids. In others, the pink of opened their in a chorus; or in ranks to the of an starter; or of fancy-goods in and paste and their graces; and, in one that to project them into with the public, ladies in elegantly, or, with yet blameless, pointed to their pink and hosiery.
Presently Harney that his watch had stopped, and in at a small jeweller's shop which to still be open. While the watch was being Charity over the where, on a of dark velvet, pins, rings, and like the moon and stars. She had so near by, and she to the and her hand among the treasures. But already Harney's watch was repaired, and he his hand on her arm and her from her dream.
“Which do you like best?” he asked over the at her side.
“I don't know....” She pointed to a gold lily-of-the-valley with white flowers.
“Don't you think the pin's better?” he suggested, and she saw that the of the was to the small stone, as a lake, with little of light all it. She at her want of discrimination.
“It's so I I was to look at it,” she said.
He laughed, and they out of the shop; but a steps away he exclaimed: “Oh, by Jove, I something,” and and left her in the crowd. She a of pink till he her and his arm through hers.
“You mustn't be of looking at the pin any longer, it to you,” he said; and she a little box being pressed into her hand. Her gave a of joy, but it her only in a stammer. She other girls she had to presents from their fellows, and was with a Harney should have that she had over the in the case in the of having one to her....
A little the they in at a opening on a with a staircase, and in its corners. “We must have something to eat,” Harney said; and the next moment Charity herself in a dressing-room all looking-glass and surfaces, where a party of showy-looking girls were on and hats. When they had gone she took to her in one of the marble basins, and to her own hat-brim, which the of the had indented. The in the shops had so her that she look at her reflection; but when she did so, the of her under her cherry-coloured hat, and the of her through the muslin, her courage; and when she had taken the from its box and it on her she walked toward the restaurant with her high, as if she had always through men in flannels.
Her a little at the of the slim-waisted in black, with mob-caps on their heads, who were moving the tables. “Not f'r another hour,” one of them to Harney in passing; and he about him.
“Oh, well, we can't here,” he decided; “let's try else—” and with a of Charity him from that of splendour.
That “somewhere else” out—after more tramping, and failures—to be, of all things, a little open-air place in a that called itself a French restaurant, and in two or three tables under a scarlet-runner, a of and and a big over from the next yard. Here they on things, while Harney, in a rocking-chair, cigarettes the and into Charity's a yellow which he said was the very same one in just such places in France.
Charity did not think the as good as sarsaparilla, but she a for the of doing what he did, and of herself alone with him in countries. The was by their being by a deep-bosomed woman with and a laugh, who talked to Harney in words, and and at his her in kind. At the other tables other people sat, mill-hands probably, but looking, who spoke the same jargon, and looked at Harney and Charity with eyes; and the table-legs a with and pink about for scraps, and sat up on his absurdly.
Harney no to move, for as their was, it was at least and quiet; and, from the main came the of trolleys, the of torpedoes, the of street-organs, the of men and the loud of crowds. He back, his cigar, the dog, and the coffee that in their cups. “It's the thing, you know,” he explained; and Charity her previous of the beverage.
They had no plans for the of the day, and when Harney asked her what she wanted to do next she was too by rich possibilities to an answer. Finally she that she to go to the Lake, where she had not been taken on her visit, and when he answered, “Oh, there's time for that—it will be later,” she some pictures like the ones Mr. Miles had taken her to. She Harney looked a little disconcerted; but he passed his over his warm brow, said gaily, “Come along, then,” and rose with a last for the pink-eyed dog.
Mr. Miles's pictures had been in an Y.M.C.A. hall, with white and an organ; but Harney Charity to a place—everything she saw to glitter—where they passed, pictures of yellow-haired in dress, into a velvet-curtained packed with to the last limit of compression. After that, for a while, was in her brain in circles of and of light and darkness. All the world has to to pass her in a of and minarets, regiments, lions, and murderers; and the around her, the hundreds of candy-munching faces, young, old, middle-aged, but all with the same excitement, part of the spectacle, and on the screen with the rest.
Presently the of the trolley-run to the Lake irresistible, and they out of the theatre. As they on the pavement, Harney with the heat, and Charity a little by it, a man by in an electric run-about with a the words: “Ten to take you the Lake.” Before Charity what was happening, Harney had a hand, and they were in. “Say, for twenny-five I'll you out to see the ball-game and back,” the driver with an grin; but Charity said quickly: “Oh, I'd go on the Lake.” The was so that progress was slow; but the of in the little while it its way and the moments too short. “Next turn is Lake Avenue,” the man called out over his shoulder; and as they paused in the wake of a big with Knights of Pythias in and swords, Charity looked up and saw on the a house with a black and gold across its front. “Dr. Merkle; Private Consultations at all hours. Lady Attendants,” she read; and she Ally Hawes's words: “The house was at the of Wing Street and Lake Avenue... there's a big black across the front....” Through all the and the a of cold ran over her.
