cowardice. It was shouted about the town that he had cut Jack off with a
curse, and turned him finally out of his house.

Unplagued by the curses of imagination, Carlisle had, indeed,
anticipated nothing in the least like this. She was dazed by the
undreamed hubbub. For the first few days after her home-coming, she
remained very closely in the house, to avoid all the worrying and horrid
talk; and one day, the day Mattie Allen ran in with popping eyes to tell
her about Jack Dalhousie, she pretended to be sick and stayed in bed,
and really did feel extremely badly.

In these days of uneasiness, Carlisle wished far more than ever that
the whole thing had been started differently; and she wondered often,
and somewhat fearfully, if Dalhousie's friend, Mr. Vivian, would try to
force himself on her again. That did not happen; nothing happened; and
the more and more calmly she came to think about it all, the more
clearly the girl saw that she personally was not to blame for the
misunderstanding. It was plainly seen as one of those unfortunate
occurrences which, while regretted by all, herself as much as anybody,
you simply could not do a single thing about. And if it had seemed
impossible to rake it all up again even that night, how much more
unrakable was it now, when days had passed, and everybody had accepted
everything, for better or worse, as it was? Fate and gossip had proved
too strong. Deplorable, indeed; but it was to be, that was all.

It was very plain, of course, that all the initial excitement and pother
could not possibly last. Withhold food from gossip, and it starves and
dies. Carlisle simply stayed quiet and held her tongue; and as the days
passed without more developments of any sort, she found her
philosophical attitude thoroughly justified by events. Town-talk, that