inquire of him about Carlia.

As he approached the light, the scraping ceased, and he saw a dark
figure dart into the shelter of the tall corn. When he reached the
lantern, he found a hoe lying in the furrow where the water should have
been running. No man irrigates with a hoe; that's a woman's tool. Ah,
the secret was out! Carlia was 'tending' the water. That's why she was
not at the party.

He stood looking down into the shadows of the corn rows, but for the
moment he could see or hear nothing. He had frightened her, and yet
Carlia was not usually afraid. He began to whistle softly and to walk
down into the corn. Then he called, not loudly, "Carlia".

There was no response. He quickened his steps. The figure ran to another
shelter. He could see her now, and he called again, louder than before.
She stopped, and then darted through the corn into the more open potatoe
patch. Dorian followed.

"Hello, Carlia," he said, "what are you doing?"

The girl stood before him, bareheaded, with rough dress and heavy boots.
She was panting as if with fright. When she caught a full sight of
Dorian she gave a little cry, and when he came within reach, she grasped
him by the arm.

"Oh, is it you, Dorian?"

"Sure. Who else did you think it was? Why, you're all of a tremble. What
are you afraid of?"