No," answered Clayton; "I have been very busy-getting ready to go
home." He had watched Easter closely as he spoke, but the girl did
not lift her face, and she betrayed no emotion, not even surprise;
nor did Raines. Only the mother showed genuine regret. The girl's
apathy filled him with bitter disappointment. She had relapsed into
barbarism again. He was a fool to think that in a few months he
could counteract influences that had been moulding her character
for a century. His purpose had been unselfish. Curiosity, the girl's
beauty, his increasing power over her, had stimulated him, to be
sure, but he had been conscientious and earnest. Somehow he was
more than disappointed; he was hurt deeply, not only that he
should have been so misunderstood, but for the lack of gratitude in
the girl. He was bewildered. What could have happened? Could
Raines really have poisoned her mind against him? Would Easter
so easily believe what might have been said against him and not
allow him a hearing?

"I've been expecting to take a trip home for several weeks," he
found himself saying a moment later; "I think I shall go
to-morrow."

He hardly meant what he said; a momentary pique had forced the
words from him, but, once spoken, he determined to abide by
them. Easter was stirred from her lethargy at last, but Clayton's
attention was drawn to Raines 's start of surprise, and he did not
see the girl's face agitated for an instant, nor her hands nervously
trembling in her lap.

"Ter-morrer! " cried the old woman. "Why, ye 'most take my
breath away. I declar', I'm downright sorry you're goin', I hev tuk