Without letting her see him the husband followed along the road. It was
dark and she heard the footsteps in the road behind her and becoming
frightened ran the last half mile to her own house. He waited until she
had entered and then followed her in, pretending he had just come from the
barns. When he heard her story of the accident to the horse and of her
fright in the road he was ashamed; but as the horse, that had been left in
a livery stable, seemed all right when he went for it the next day he
became suspicious again.
As he stood outside the door of his daughter's room, the farmer felt as he
had felt that evening long before when he followed his wife along the road.
When on the porch downstairs he had looked up suddenly and had seen the
gesture made by the farm hand, he had also looked quickly at his daughter.
She looked confused and, he thought, guilty. "Well, it is the same thing
over again," he thought bitterly, "like mother, like daughter--they are
both of the same stripe." Getting quickly out of his chair he had followed
the young man into the road and had discharged him. "Go, to-night. I don't
want to see you on the place again," he said. In the darkness before the
girl's room he thought of many bitter things he wanted to say. He forgot
she was a girl and talked to her as he might have talked to a mature,
sophisticated, and guilty woman. "Come," he said, "I want to know the
truth.
Pages:
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177