"I'd go right down in the field where he is ploughing, and I'd make him say he'd come to see me to-night." "I called him back last night--you heard me," said Charlotte, with slow bitterness. Her square delicate chin dipped into the muslin folds of her neckerchief; she looked steadily at the floor and bent her brow. "I'd call him again." "You would, would you?" cried Charlotte, straightening herself. "You would stand out in the road and keep on calling a man who wouldn't even turn his head? You'd keep on calling, and let all the town hear?" "Yes, I would. I would! I wouldn't be ashamed of anything if I was going to marry him. I'd go on my knees before him in the face and eyes of the whole town." "Well, I wouldn't," said Charlotte. "I would, if I was sure he thought as much of me as I did of him." Charlotte looked at her proudly. "I'm sure enough of that," said she. Rose winced a little. "Then I wouldn't mind what I did," she persisted, stubbornly. "Well, I would," said Charlotte; "but maybe I don't care. Maybe all this isn't as hard for me as it would be for another girl." Charlotte's voice broke, but she tossed her head back with a proud motion; she took up the dusting-cloth and fell to work again. "Oh, Charlotte!" said Rose; "I didn't mean that. Of course I know you care. It's awful. It was only because I didn't see how you could seem so calm; it ain't like me. Of course I know you feel bad enough underneath. Your wedding-clothes all done and everything. They are pretty near all done, ain't they, Charlotte?" "Yes," said Charlotte. "They're--pretty near--done." She tried to speak steadily, but her voice failed. Suddenly she threw herself on the bed and hid her face, and her whole body heaved and twisted with great sobs. "Oh, poor Charlotte, don't!" Rose cried, wringing her own hands; her face quivered, but she did not weep. "Maybe I don't care," sobbed Charlotte; "maybe--I don't care." "Oh, Charlotte!" Rose looked at Charlotte's piteous girlish shoulders shaken with sobs, and the fair prostrate girlish head. Charlotte all drawn up in this little heap upon the bed looked very young and helpless. All her womanly stateliness, which made her seem so superior to Rose, had vanished. Rose pulled her chair close to the bed, sat down, and laid her little thin hand on Charlotte's arm, and Charlotte directly felt it hot through her sleeve. "Don't, Charlotte," Rose said; "I'm sorry I spoke so." "Maybe I don't care," Charlotte sobbed out again. "Maybe I don't." "Oh, Charlotte, I'm sorry," Rose said, trembling. "I do know you care; don't you feel so bad because I said that." Rose tightened her grasp on Charlotte's arm; her voice changed suddenly. "Look here, Charlotte," said she, "I'll do anything in the world I can to help you; I promise you that, and I mean it, honest." Charlotte reached around a hand, and clasped her cousin's. "I'm sorry I spoke so," Rose said.