This pathetic abdication of all authority over her did not move her: she
could feel only the outrage of his interference.

"Can't you see that I don't care what anybody says? It's true I went
there to see him; and he was in his room, and I stood outside for ever
so long and watched him; but I dursn't go in for fear he'd think I'd
come after him...." She felt her voice breaking, and gathered it up in a
last defiance. "As long as I live I'll never forgive you!" she cried.

Mr. Royall made no answer. He sat and pondered with sunken head, his
veined hands clasped about the arms of his chair. Age seemed to have
come down on him as winter comes on the hills after a storm. At length
he looked up.

"Charity, you say you don't care; but you're the proudest girl I know,
and the last to want people to talk against you. You know there's always
eyes watching you: you're handsomer and smarter than the rest, and
that's enough. But till lately you've never given them a chance. Now
they've got it, and they're going to use it. I believe what you say, but
they won't.... It was Mrs. Tom Fry seen you going in... and two or three
of them watched for you to come out again.... You've been with the fellow
all day long every day since he come here... and I'm a lawyer, and I know
how hard slander dies." He paused, but she stood motionless, without
giving him any sign of acquiescence or even of attention. "He's a
pleasant fellow to talk to--I liked having him here myself. The young
men up here ain't had his chances. But there's one thing as old as the
hills and as plain as daylight: if he'd wanted you the right way he'd
have said so."