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They had been good to Carlia. Perhaps he could learn a little more about her. The dinner was enjoyed very much. Afterward, Mrs. Whitman, encouraged by Dorian's attentiveness, poured into his willing ear all she had learned of the girl he was seeking; and before the woman ceased her freely-flowing talk, a most important item had been added to his knowledge of the case.
"Isn't he a funny man," whispered Carlia to Mildred, who appeared not to hear the comment, so interested was she in the old man. "And so you've come to celebrate," went on Uncle Zed, "come to congratulate me that I am one year nearer the grave." "Now, Uncle Zed, you know " "Yes; I know; forgive me for teasing; I know why you come to wish me well.
None of the other girls touched his heart as Carlia. He had taken a number of them to dances, but he had always come back, in his thought, at least, to Carlia. But her actions lately had been much of a puzzle. Sometimes she seemed to welcome him eagerly when he called, at other times she tried to evade him. No doubt this Mr. Jack Lamont was the disturbing element.
He was bound by this greater knowledge to be the stronger, the wiser, the one who could keep all situations well in hand. One evening, when Carlia was unusually sweet and tempting, he asked if he might kiss her goodnight. She set her face as if it were hard to deny him, but she finally said: "No; you must not." "Why not, Carlia?" "We're not engaged yet." "Carlia!" "We are not.
That goodnight's kiss should have brought Dorian back to Carlia sooner than it did; but it was nearly a month before he saw her again. The fact that it was the busiest time of the year was surely no adequate excuse for this neglect. Harvest was on again, and the dry-farm called for much of his attention.
After Sunday school Dorian went directly to Carlia's home. He found the mother tear-stained and haggard with care. The tears flowed again freely at the sight of Dorian, and she clung to him as if she had no other means of comfort. "Do you know where Carlia is?" she wailed. "No, Sister Duke, I haven't the last idea. I haven't seen her for some time."
However, Dorian was not easy in his mind, and it came to the point when he suffered severe heartaches when he knew of Carlia's being with the stranger. The Christmas holidays that season were nearly spoiled for him. He had asked Carlia a number of times to go to the parties with him, but she had offered some excuse each time. "Let her alone," someone had told him.
He took the pails from her hand, and they went to the house together. The milk was carried into the kitchen where Mrs. Duke was busy with pots and pans. Mr. Duke was before the mirror, giving the finishing touches to his hair. He was dressed for meeting. As he heard rather than saw his daughter enter, he asked: "Carlia, have you swilled the pigs?" "Not yet," she replied.
The familiar room, poorly furnished, seemed strange to him. The big, ugly enlarged photographs on the wall blurred to his vision. Carlia, with head bowed now, appeared to stand in the midst of utter confusion. Dorian groped his way to the door, and stepped out into the wintry night. When he had reached the gate, Carlia rushed to the door.
Complete forgetfulness of what had been, was, of course, impossible, either for Carlia or for Dorian; but he tried manfully not to let the "specter" come too often between him and the girl he loved. He frequently told her that he loved her, but it was done by simple word or act. Dorian's greater knowledge gave him the advantage over her.
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