She thought she looked pale.
"Did you meet anybody ?" she asked.
"I don't know; there wasn't many folks out." "You didn't see Barney, did you ?" "Yes, I met him." Charlotte lighted another candle, and opened the door.
"Look here," said her mother.
"Well ?" replied Charlotte, with a sort of despairing patience.
"What did he say to you?
I want to know." "He didn't say much of anything.

He thanked me for what I did about his mother." "Didn't he say anything about anything else ?" "No, he didn't." Charlotte went out, shielding her candle.
"You don't mean that he didn't say anything, after the way he acted that day his mother died ?" "I didn't expect him to say anything." "He's treated you mean, Charlotte," her mother cried out, with a half sob.

"He'd ought to be strung up after he acted so, huggin' an' kissin' you right before folk's face and eyes." "It was more my fault than 'twas his," returned Charlotte; and she shut the door.
"Then I should think you'd be ashamed of yourself," Sarah called after her, but Charlotte did not seem to hear.
"I never see such work, for my part," Sarah wailed out to herself.
"Mother, you come in here a minute," Cephas called out of the bedroom.

He had gone to bed soon after supper.
"Anythin' new about Barney ?" he asked, when his wife stood beside him.
"Barney ain't no more notion of comin' back than he had before, in spite of all the talk.

I never see such work," replied Sarah, in a voice strained high with tears.
"I call it pretty doin's," assented Cephas.