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"No; do not let her alone," his mother had counseled; and he took his mother's advice. Carlia had been absent from the Sunday meetings for a number of weeks, so when she appeared in her place in the choir on a Sunday late in January, Dorian noticed the unusual pallor of her face. He wondered if she had been ill. He resolved to make another effort, for in fact, his heart went out to her.

Later that summer, he learned only incidently that it had been Carlia who had been before him that afternoon. During those days, Carlia kept out of Dorian's way as much as possible. She even avoided walking to and from school with him. He was so absentminded even with her that she in time came to resent it in her feelings.

I want to tell you again what a contemptible cur you are. No one but a damned scoundrel would take advantage of a girl as you did, and then leave her to bear her shame alone." "Do you mean Carlia " "Don't utter her name from your foul lips." "For if you do, I might say, what have I got to do with that?

He had found Carlia, found her well and strong; but why had she run from him with a cry of alarm? She surely had recognized him; she would not have acted thus toward a stranger. Apparently, she was not glad to see him. He stood looking at the closed door, and a feeling of resentment came to him.

Even Dorian here, who is usually afraid of girls, makes quite a chum of her." "Well, we're neighbors," justified the girl. After dinner Carlia took Mildred home with her. It was not far, just around the low ridge which hid the house from view. There Mildred met Pa Duke, Ma Duke and Will Duke, Carlia's older brother.

"Well, what have you two been doing?" enquired the father of Carlia. "We've just been taking a walk," answered Dorian. "Will it be alright if Carlia and I go to the new moving picture theatre in town some Saturday?" Neither parent made any objection. They were, in fact, glad to have this neighbor boy show some interest in their daughter. "Your mother was at meeting," said Mrs.

"Well, that might help some. But, honestly, Carlia, you ought to get away from this grind a little. It's telling on you. Don't you ever get into the city?" "Sometimes Saturday afternoons to deliver butter and eggs." "Well, some Saturday we'll go to see that moving picture show that's recently started in town. They say it's wonderful. I've never been. We'll go together. What do you say?"

Carlia seated herself with the driver, while Dorian took the back seat. They were soon speeding along the road which led to Greenstreet. The cool night air fanned Dorian's hot face. Conversation ceased. Even Carlia and the driver were silent. The moon peeped over the eastern hills. The country-side was silent. Dorian thought of the strange events of the evening. This Mr.

Then he called, not loudly, "Carlia". There was no response. He quickened his steps. The figure ran to another shelter. He could see her now, and he called again, louder than before. She stopped, and then darted through the corn into the more open potatoe patch. Dorian followed. "Hello, Carlia," he said, "what are you doing?"

Hardly a day passed without Dorian spending some time with Carlia. She would not go to Sunday School or to Mutual, and it was some time before he could convince her that it was a matter of wisdom as well as of right that she should attend some of the public ward meetings. Frequently, he took his book to the Duke home and read aloud to Carlia. This she enjoyed very much.