frightened, as she looked out to the road without wanting to be seen. A
light wagon rattled by, and the girl, somewhat relieved, went back to
her chair.

"Isn't it warm in here?" she asked.

"It's warm everywhere."

"I can't stay here. Let's go out--for a walk."

"All right--come on."

They closed the door, and went out at the rear. He led the way around to
the front, but Carlia objected.

"Let's go down by the field," she said. "The road is dusty."

The day was closing with a clear sky. A Sunday calm rested over meadow
and field, as the two strolled down by the ripening wheat. The girl
seemed uneasy until the house was well out of sight. Then she seated
herself on a grassy bank by the willows.

"I'm tired," she said with a sigh of relief.

Dorian looked at her with curious eyes. Carlia, grown up, was more of a
puzzle than ever.

"You are working too hard," he ventured.

"Hard work won't kill anybody--but it's the other things."