I-XIV

He woke at dawn. The whippoorwills, the
frogs and crickets, were silent, and the
sharp, sweet song of a mocking bird
throbbed from a hedge. It was dark in the valley,
but, high above, the air was already brightening
with the sun; a symmetrical cloud caught the solar
rays and flushed rosy against silver space. The
valley turned from indistinct blue to grey, to sparkling
green. The sun gilded the peaks of the western
range, and slipped slowly down, spilling into
the depth. It was almost cold, the pump handle,
the rough sward, the foliage beyond, were drenched
with white dew; a damp, misty veil lifted from the
surface of the stream.

Clare declared that she felt stronger; she dressed,
insisted upon frying his breakfast. "You ought to
have somebody in," she asserted later. They were
on the shallow porch, waiting stiffly for the doctor.
"But don't get that eldest of your sister's; last time
she wore my sateen waist and run the colors."

Just as she was leaving he slipped twenty dollars
into her hand. "Write when you want more," he

[[78]]

p077 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p078w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p079

v?