She had seen nothing of what Anderson had done, and neither had the
others. There was manifestly nothing more to be done. It was an
absurdity for Carroll to load himself up with that squirming puppy,
when the ownership seemed so problematic. He bade them all good-bye
again, and they got on the train. The women's pretty, wistfully
smiling faces appeared at windows, also Eddy's, and the innocently
wondering visage of the puppy. Anderson was in the smoking-car. As
the train passed, Carroll saw his face at a window, and bowed,
raising his hat half-mechanically. Anderson was conscious of a
distinct sensation of pity for him, the more so that he was helpless
and rebelliously depressed himself. He meditated upon the
advisability of going into the other car, the Pullman, before the
arrival of the train at New Sanderson, and bidding Charlotte
farewell. He finally decided not to do so. He had no reason to think
that she would care especially to have him, and while his
self-respect, in spite of his perfect cognizance of the disadvantages
of his position, was sufficient not to make him hesitate on that
account, he had had a feeling against intruding upon the possible
sadness of the ladies when making what they must recognize as a
forced exit from their home under humiliating circumstances. It did
not occur to him that they might possibly not feel so.
Carroll, left on the platform while the train steamed out of sight,
in its backward trail of smoke full of rainbow lights in the frosty
air, turned to go home. He was going to walk. Martin had driven the
family to the station, and had himself gotten on the rear car of the
train. He was about seeking employment in New Sanderson. One of the
horsemen had driven off with the rig; the other was waiting for a
word with Carroll. The discussion was short, heated, and profane on
one side; calm, low, and imperturbable on the other.
"You'll have it in the end," Carroll said, as he turned to go.
"The end has got to come pretty darned quick," the other retorted,
jumping into his little trotting-gig and spinning off.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account