Later that summer, he learned only incidently that it had been Carlia who had been before him that afternoon.
During those days, Carlia kept out of Dorian's way as much as possible.
She even avoided walking to and from school with him.

He was so absentminded even with her that she in time came to resent it in her feelings.

She could not understand that a big, very-much-alive boy should have his mind so fixed on a dead girl that he should altogether forget there were living ones about, especially one, Carlia Duke.
One evening Dorian met Uncle Zed driving his cow home from the pasture, and the old man invited the younger man to walk along with him.

Dorian always found Uncle Zed's company acceptable.
"Why haven't you come to me with your trouble ?" abruptly asked Uncle Zed.
Dorian started, then hung his head.
"We never have any unshared secrets, you know, and I may have been able to help you." "I couldn't talk to anybody." "No; I suppose not." The cow was placed in the corral, and then Uncle Zed and Dorian sat down on a grassy bank.

The sun was painting just such a picture of the marshlands as Dorian knew so well.
"But I can talk to you" continued the old man as if there had been no break in his sentences.