The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. I’ve no name for it yet. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. “Lighten up. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world.
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