There was some little consolation in the thought that Lavinia did not laugh as much as the others; perhaps, if she did not care to defend him, she at least pitied him. And then he began to pity himself. The whole evening stretched before him; pretty soon he would have to move up to the table, and sit down on the narrow little benches that were fastened between the trees; then after supper they would begin their dancing and when that came he did not see what he could do. The only pleasure he had had that afternoon had been on the way out; he had been alone with Lavinia, and the four miles of pleasant road that lay between the town and Greenwood Lake were too short for all the happiness Marley found in them. He could feel Lavinia again by his side, her hands folded on the thin old linen lap-robe. He could not recall a word they had said, but it seemed to him that the conversation had flowed on intimately and tranquilly; she had been so close and sympathetic; and he would always remember how her eyes had been raised to his. The fields with the wheat in shock had swept by in the beauty of harvest time; the road, its dust laid by the morning shower, had rolled under the wheels of the buggy softly, smoothly and noiselessly; the air had been odorous with the scent of green things freshened by the rain, and had vibrated with the sounds of summer. Then suddenly his reverie was broken. The men were gathering about the table with the girls; all of them looked at him expectantly. "Here, you!" called Lawrence. "Do you think we're going to do all the work? Come, get in the game, and don't look so solemn--this ain't a funeral." They all laughed, and Marley felt his face flame, but he rose and went over to the table, halting in indecision. "Run get some water," ordered Lawrence, imperatively waving his hand. "Mayme," he shouted, "hand him the pitcher! Step lively, now. The men-folks are hungry after their day's work. Has any one got a pitcher concealed about his person? What did you do with the pitcher, Glenn? Take it to water your horse?" They were laughing uproariously, and Marley was plainly discomfited. But Lavinia stepped to his side, a large white pitcher in her hand. "I'll show you," she said. They started away together, and Marley felt a protection in her presence. A little way farther he suddenly thought of the pitcher, which Lavinia still was bearing, and he took it from her. As he seized the handle their fingers became for an instant entangled. "Did I hurt you?" he asked. "Oh, no!" she assured him, and as they walked on, out of the sight of the laughing group behind them, an ease came over him. "Do you know where the well is?" he asked. "Oh, yes," she answered. "It's down here. I could have come just as well as not." "I'm glad to come," he said; and then he added, "with _you_."