field. 'Why all this hurry?' he had asked himself.

She was locking up the desks; the children went by him, curtseying, and
he had to wait till the last one was past the door. Nora must have
guessed his errand, for her face noticeably hardened. 'I've seen Mrs.
O'Mara,' he blurted out, 'and she tells me that you've been seen walking
with some man on the hillside in lonely places.... Don't deny it if it
is true.' 'I'm not going to deny anything that is true.' How brave she
was! Her courage attracted him and softened his heart. But everything
was true, alas! Everything. She told him that her plans were to steal
out of the parish without saying a word to anyone, for she was
determined not to disgrace him or the parish. She was thinking of him in
all her trouble, and everything might have ended well if he had not
asked her who the man was. She would not say, nor give any reasons why
she wouldn't do so. Only this, that if the man had deserted her she
didn't want anybody to bring him back, if he could be brought back; if
the man were dead it were better to say nothing about him. 'But if it
were his fault?' 'I don't see that that would make any difference.'

They went out of the school-house talking in quite a friendly way. There
was a little drizzle in the air, and, opening her umbrella, she said,
'I'm afraid you'll get wet.' 'Get wet, get wet! what matter?' he had
answered impatiently, for the remark annoyed him. By the hawthorn-bush
he began to tell her again that it would relieve his mind to know who
the man was. She tried to get away from him, but he wouldn't let her go;
and catching her by the arm he besought her, saying that it would
relieve his mind. How many times had he said that? But he wasn't able to
persuade her, notwithstanding his insistence that as a priest of the
parish he had a right to know. No doubt she had some very deep reason
for keeping her secret, or perhaps his authoritative manner was the