incalculably old. "She's got to be talked to like a baby," she thought,
with a feeling of compassion for Miss Hatchard's long immaturity. "Yes,
that's it," she said aloud. "The housework's too hard for me: I've been
coughing a good deal this fall."

She noted the immediate effect of this suggestion. Miss Hatchard paled
at the memory of poor Eudora's taking-off, and promised to do what she
could. But of course there were people she must consult: the clergyman,
the selectmen of North Dormer, and a distant Hatchard relative at
Springfield. "If you'd only gone to school!" she sighed. She followed
Charity to the door, and there, in the security of the threshold, said
with a glance of evasive appeal: "I know Mr. Royall is... trying at
times; but his wife bore with him; and you must always remember,
Charity, that it was Mr. Royall who brought you down from the Mountain."
Charity went home and opened the door of Mr. Royall's "office." He was
sitting there by the stove reading Daniel Webster's speeches. They had
met at meals during the five days that had elapsed since he had come to
her door, and she had walked at his side at Eudora's funeral; but they
had not spoken a word to each other.

He glanced up in surprise as she entered, and she noticed that he
was unshaved, and that he looked unusually old; but as she had always
thought of him as an old man the change in his appearance did not move
her. She told him she had been to see Miss Hatchard, and with what
object. She saw that he was astonished; but he made no comment.

"I told her the housework was too hard for me, and I wanted to earn the
money to pay for a hired girl. But I ain't going to pay for her: you've
got to. I want to have some money of my own."