An awful shame that Richard should see her riding past to the poor-house seized upon her.
The wood-sled went grating on, a chain rattled; she calculated that they were nearly past when there was a jerk, and Jonathan Leavitt cried "Hullo!" "Where are you going ?" shouted another voice.

Sylvia knew it.

Her heart pounded.

She turned her face farther to one side, and did not open her eyes.
Richard Alger came plunging down out of his yard.

His handsome face was quite pale under a slight grizzle of beard, he was in his shirt-sleeves, he had on no dicky or stock, and his sinewy throat showed.
"Where you goin' ?" he gasped out again, as he came up to the sled.
"I'm a takin' Sylvy home.