She went off at this point into a retrospective journey along the pathways of her summer outing. At this place he stood at the watering trough, leaning upon his great gray horse. Here he was walking behind his plow; he was lifting his hat--the clear sunshine fell over his face. She saw again the splendid flex of his side and powerful thigh. Here he was in the hayfield, and she saw the fork-handle bend like a willow twig under his smiling effort, the muscles on his brown arms rolling like some perfect machinery. She idealized all he did, and the entire summer and the wide landscape seemed filled with prismatic colors. Then her self-accusations came back. She had gone down into the field to see him; perhaps the very man who was with him then was one of those who had jested of her and whom he had punished. Her little hands clutched. "I'll never go out there again! I'll never see him again--never!" she said, with her teeth shut tight. Mrs. Thayer did not take any very great interest in the matter until Mrs. Saulisbury held a session with her. Then she sputtered in deep indignation. "Why, how dare he make love to my niece? Why, the presumptuous thing! Why, the idea! He's a workingman!" Mrs. Saulisbury remained calm and smiling. She was the only person who could manage Mrs. Thayer. "Yes, that's true. But he's a college-bred man, and----" "College-bred! These nasty little Western colleges--what do they amount to? Why, he curries our horses." Mrs. Saulisbury was amused. "I know that is an enormity, but I heard the Major tell of currying horses once." "That was in the army--anyhow, it doesn't matter. Edith can simply ignore the whole thing." "I hope she can, but I doubt it very much." "What do you mean?" "I mean that Edith is interested in him." "I don't believe it! Why, it is impossible! You're crazy, Jeannette!" "He's very handsome in a way." "He's red and big-jointed, and he's a common plowboy." Mrs. Thayer gasped, returning to her original charge. Mrs. Saulisbury laughed, being malevolent enough to enjoy the whole situation. "He appears to me to be a very uncommon plowboy. Well, I wouldn't try to do anything about it, Charlotte," she added. "You remember the fate of the Brookses, who tried to force Maud to give up her clerk. If this is a case of true love, you might as well surrender gracefully." "But I can't do that. I'm responsible for her to her father. I'll go right straight and ask her." "Charlotte," Mrs. Saulisbury's voice rang with a stern note, "don't you _presume_ to do such a thing! You will precipitate everything. The girl don't know her own mind, and if you go up there and attack this young man, you'll tip the whole dish over. Don't you know you can't safely abuse that young fellow in her hearing? Sit down now and be reasonable. Leave her alone for a while. Let her think it over alone." This good counsel prevailed, and the other woman settled into a calmer state. "Well, it's a dreadful thing, anyhow."