he had closed it, and stood on the top step with the cold wind agitating
her fair hair. "Say," she called after him.

James turned as he walked away. "What is it?"

"Nothin', only I was foolin' you, and so was Bill. I've got a feller,
and Bill's him."

"I'll make you a present when you're married," James called back with a
laugh.

"It's to come off next summer," cried the girl.

"I won't forget," answered James. He knew the girl lied; that she was
not about to marry the workingman. He said to himself, as he strode on
refreshed with his coarse fare, that girls were extraordinary: first
they were bold to positive indecency, then modest to the borders of
insanity.

James walked on. He reached Stanbridge about noon. Then he was hungry
again. There was a good hotel there, and he made a substantial meal. He
had a smoke and a rest of half an hour, then he resumed his walk. He
soon passed the outskirts of Stanbridge, which was a small, old city,
then he was in the country. The houses were sparsely set well back from
the road. He met nobody, except an occasional countryman driving a
wood-laden team. Presently the road lay between stately groves of oaks,
although now and then they stood on one side only of the highway. Nearly
all the oaks bore a shag of dried leaves about their trunks, like mossy
beards of old men, only the shag was a bright russet instead of white.
The ground under the oaks was like cloth-of-gold under the sun, the