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Updated: June 27, 2025
Carlia listened attentively to his discussion of deep problems, and he was agreeably surprised to learn that she could readily follow him in the discussion of these themes; so that the long winter evenings spent with her either at her home or at his own became a source of great inspiration to the young man who had not lost sight or the mission assigned to him by the beloved Uncle Zed.
"He did not see her, then, to talk to her?" "No; he waited a few moments only, then drove off again." "Where is Carlia now?" "Still up in her room." "May I go up to her?" "Yes; but won't you have her come down?" "No, I'd rather go up there, if you don't mind." "Not at all. Dorian, you seem the only help we have." He went through the living room to the stairway.
"And if so be that he find it, verily, I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep than of the ninety and nine which went not astray." Dorian seemed to awaken with a start. Donning coat and hat, he went out again, his steps being led down the country road toward the farmhouse. He wanted to visit again the house where Carlia had been. Her presence there and her suffering had hallowed it.
Yes, one continual round of work at the farm house is apt either to crush to dullness or to arouse to rebellion. Carlia was of the kind not easily crushed.... But what could they now do? What could he do? For, it came to him with great force that he himself was not altogether free from blame in this matter. He could have done more, vastly more for Carlia Duke. "Well, Brother Duke," said Dorian.
Carlia still looked straight ahead as though fearful to see the agitation she had brought to the young man; but he looked at her, with cheeks still aflame. He did not understand Carlia. Why had she said that? Was she just teasing him? But she did not look as if she were teasing. Silently they walked on to the school house door. But Dorian could not forget what Carlia had said.
And so Lorna Doone had come down and Mildred's study of the marshlands glowed with its warmer colors in its place. The plowboy arose from the grass. "Get up there," he said to his horses. "We must be going, or there'll be very little plowing today." Carlia Duke was the first person to greet Mildred as she alighted at the Trent gate. Carlia knew of her coming and was waiting.
She would fall in and drown. "You dared us; now who's the coward," cried the boys. Carlia took a step forward, balanced herself, and took another. The children stood in spell-bound silence. The girl advanced slowly along the frail bridge until she reached the middle where the pole swayed dangerously. "Balance yourself," suggested the second boy. "Run," said the first.
At the close of the meeting he found his way to her side as she was walking home with her father and mother. Dorian never went through the formality of asking Carlia if he might accompany her home. He had always taken it for granted that he was welcome; and, at any rate, a man could always tell by the girl's actions whether or not he was wanted.
Come here and lift me down before you go." He obeyed. She put a wet arm about his neck and cuddled her dark, damp curls against his russet mop. He lifted her lightly down, and then he slipped a chocolate secretly into her hand. "Oh girls," exclaimed one of the party, "I know now." "Know what?" asked Carlia. "I know who you are going to marry." "Who?" "You're going to marry Dorian."
The kitchen door opened, and the woman looked at Carlia and then at Dorian. "Breakfast is ready," she announced. "Come, Miss Davis, and have your friend come too." Dorian explained that he had already eaten. "Please excuse me just now," pleaded Carlia, to the woman. "Go eat your breakfast without me. Mrs. Carlston, this is Mr. Trent, a neighbor of ours at my home.
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