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Updated: June 29, 2025
I don't see why he didn't come," said Hollanden, looking across the shining valley. He frowned questioningly at the landscape. "I wonder where in the mischief he is?" The Worcester girls began also to stare at the great gleaming stretch of green and gold. "Didn't he tell you he was coming?" they demanded. "He didn't say a word about it," answered Hollanden. "I supposed, of course, he was coming.
Under the sloping porch of the inn the vague orange light from the parlours drifted to the black wall of the night. "I shall miss you," said the painter. "Oh, I dare say," said the girl. Hollanden was lecturing at length and wonderfully.
"I was resolved to finish a sketch of a stubble field which I began a good many days ago. You see, I was going to do such a great lot of work this summer, and I've done hardly a thing. I really ought to compel myself to do some, you know." "There," said Hollanden, with a victorious nod, "just what I told you!" "You didn't tell us anything of the kind," retorted the Worcester girls with one voice.
"I shall be delighted," he answered stiffly, and with a dissatisfied look at her. "Oh, Mr. Hawker," cried the younger Worcester girl, suddenly emerging from the cloud of argument which Hollanden and Oglethorpe kept in the air, "won't it be sad to lose Grace? Indeed, I don't know what we shall do. Sha'n't we miss her dreadfully?" "Yes," said Hawker, "we shall of course miss her dreadfully."
Take care of myself! My boy, I've got a past of sorrow and gloom. "You're nothing but a kid," said Hawker, glaring at the other man. "Oh, of course," said Hollanden, wagging his head with midnight wisdom. "Oh, of course."
On this journey Hawker made a long speech to his friend, and at the end of it he exclaimed: "And now do you think she cares so much for Oglethorpe? Why, she as good as told me that he was only a very great friend." Hollanden wagged his head dubiously. "What a woman says doesn't amount to shucks. It's the way she says it that's what counts.
"That dunce of a thing. It makes me tired. It isn't worth a hang. Blame it!" "What?" Hollanden strode forward and stood before the painting with legs apart, in a properly critical manner. "What? Why, you said it was your best thing." "Aw!" said Hawker, waving his arms, "it's no good! I abominate it! I didn't get what I wanted, I tell you. I didn't get what I wanted.
There for a while he was so cross and out of sorts. I don't see what could have come over him. But now he's just as good as he can be." Hollanden told him, "Come up to the inn more, you fool." "I was up there yesterday." "Yesterday! What of that? I've seen the time when the farm couldn't hold you for two hours during the day." "Go to blazes!"
"In the name of Heaven, why should she?" "I don't know," said Hollanden; "I don't know, I'm sure. But, then, women have no social logic. This is the great blessing of the world. There is only one thing which is superior to the multiplicity of social forms, and that is a woman's mind a young woman's mind.
"You are more ridiculous now than I have yet seen you." After a pause he said magnificently, "Well, Miss Fanhall, you will doubtless find Mr. Hollanden's conversation to have a much greater interest than that of such a ridiculous person." Hollanden approached them with the blithesome step of an untroubled man. "Hello, you two people, why don't you oh ahem! Hold on, Billie, where are you going?"
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