Back up through the wild Gap they rode in silence, past Bee Rock,
out of the chasm and up the little valley toward the Trail of the
Lonesome Pine, into which the father's old sorrel nag, with a
switch of her sunburnt tail, turned leftward. June leaned forward
a little, and there was the crest of the big tree motionless in
the blue high above, and sheltered by one big white cloud. It was
the first time she had seen the pine since she had first left it,
and little tremblings went through her from her bare feet to her
bonneted head. Thus was she unclad, for Hale had told her that, to
avoid criticism, she must go home clothed just as she was when she
left Lonesome Cove. She did not quite understand that, and she
carried her new clothes in a bundle in her lap, but she took
Hale's word unquestioned. So she wore her crimson homespun and her
bonnet, with her bronze-gold hair gathered under it in the same
old Psyche knot. She must wear her shoes, she told Hale, until she
got out of town, else someone might see her, but Hale had said she
would be leaving too early for that: and so she had gone from the
Gap as she had come into it, with unmittened hands and bare feet.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206