What people, therefore, saw of her in a cursory view was very little;

in truth, mainly something that was not she. The woman herself was a

shadowy, conjectural creature who had little to do with the outlines

presented to Sherton eyes; a shape in the gloom, whose true description

could only be approximated by putting together a movement now and a

glance then, in that patient and long-continued attentiveness which

nothing but watchful loving-kindness ever troubles to give.

There was a little delay in their setting out from the town, and Marty

South took advantage of it to hasten forward, with the view of escaping

them on the way, lest they should feel compelled to spoil their

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tete-a-tete by asking her to ride. She walked fast, and one-third of

the journey was done, and the evening rapidly darkening, before she

perceived any sign of them behind her. Then, while ascending a hill,

she dimly saw their vehicle drawing near the lowest part of the

incline, their heads slightly bent towards each other; drawn together,

no doubt, by their souls, as the heads of a pair of horses well in hand

are drawn in by the rein. She walked still faster.

But between these and herself there was a carriage, apparently a

brougham, coming in the same direction, with lighted lamps. When it

overtook her--which was not soon, on account of her pace--the scene was

much darker, and the lights glared in her eyes sufficiently to hide the

details of the equipage.

It occurred to Marty that she might take hold behind this carriage and

so keep along with it, to save herself the mortification of being

overtaken and picked up for pity's sake by the coming pair.

Accordingly, as the carriage drew abreast of her in climbing the long

ascent, she walked close to the wheels, the rays of the nearest lamp

penetrating her very pores. She had only just dropped behind when the

carriage stopped, and to her surprise the coachman asked her, over his

shoulder, if she would ride. What made the question more surprising

was that it came in obedience to an order from the interior of the

vehicle.

Marty gladly assented, for she was weary, very weary, after working all

night and keeping afoot all day. She mounted beside the coachman,

wondering why this good-fortune had happened to her. He was rather a

great man in aspect, and she did not like to inquire of him for some

time.

At last she said, "Who has been so kind as to ask me to ride?"

"Mrs. Charmond," replied her statuesque companion.




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