Vincent walked quickly away. He strode with long strides across the grass. After a time he stopped, and looked to right and left of him. There was a rustling sound in a shrub near by. Hetty stole suddenly out of the deep shadow.
"Take me home, George, I've been waiting for you," she said.
"Well, these are queer goings-on," said the man. "There was a lady, Mrs. Everett, and she said—never mind now what she said. Tell me, Het, as you would speak the truth ef you were a-dying, what did yer want with Squire?"
"Nothing. What should I want with him? I was just glad to see him again."
"Why did you turn faint?"
"It was the heat of the room."
"Come on. Take my arm. Let's go out o' this."
The farmer's tone was very fierce. He dragged Hetty's hand through his big arm, and strode away so quickly that she could scarcely keep up with him.
"It hurts my side," she said, at last panting.
"You think nothing hurts but your side," said the man. "There are worse aches than that."