HE air was very soft and sweet. The cherry-trees in the yards were in blossom, and also the little plum-trees, but the apple-trees lagged behind.
There were very few houses for a mile or two; most of the way were apple orchards, and smooth meadows bordered by stone walls. The grass in these meadows was a glittering young green, and there were groups of golden dandelions in it.
A slender young woman came slowly down the road. Her poor cotton gown, of a faded pink color, was bedraggled with dust and dew; her green plaid shawl, hanging half off her shoulders, was ragged. She carried in one hand a great basket bristling with vases, colored glass bottles, and little plaster images, in the other a large bundle tied up in an old snuff-colored cloth. Out of this last, tucked carefully between the folds, peeped a little bunch of spring flowers, anemones and violets. The girl could hardly carry her burdens; she could scarcely put one foot before the other and drag herself along. Every now and then she stopped to rest, setting her basket on the wall, and leaning herself against it.
A young man in a light express wagon drove slowly along behind her, walking his horse, and watching her curiously. He was a handsome fellow, dressed in coarse gray. There were grain bags heaped up in the back of his wagon. Just before he reached the woman she sank quite down in a little heap by the wall.
“Drunk!” ejaculated the man. Then he chirruped to his horse and cried “Whoa!” almost with the same breath. He threw the lines over the horse's back and sprang out, then bent closely over the prostrate figure by the wall and looked in her face. “Good Lord!” said he. “She ain't drunk—she's in a dead faint!”
There lay the poor young creature on the green grass, among her little plaster images and her rags. Her face was white as death.
“Poor thing!” muttered the young man, and began rubbing her hands. “I wish I had some water,” said he.
Presently she began to gasp and try to rise.
“There, there,” said he, soothingly, holding her down; “lie still a minute. If you get right up now, you'll faint away again. Feel sick, don't you?”
“Oh dear!” groaned the girl.
“You'll feel better in a minute; just lie still.” He continued rubbing her hands; she fixed her great eyes on him dazedly. “Where were you going?” asked he, presently.
“Boston.”
“Well, I'm going two miles that way, and I'll take you along as far as I go. Were you going to stop along to sell these things?”
“No; I've got to go right home. I'm sick.”
“Well, I'd go right home if I were you. Suppose you can get into the wagon if I help you, now?”
“I'd jist as soon walk. I don't want to make no trouble.”
“Trouble? I guess it won't be much trouble. There, I'll stow away the basket and the bundle in behind here. Now!” He almost lifted her into the seat, then sprang up beside her and took the lines. She reeled when the horse started, and he caught hold of her. “I guess I shall have to hold you in till you get a little steadier,” said he, laughing. “Your feet don't touch the floor, anyway, do they?”
“No.”
“Any one could get shook out mighty easy going over the rough places if they didn't sit pretty firm. Been away from home long?”
“A week.”
“Pretty hard work travelling round this way, ain't it?”
“Awful hard,” said the girl. Then she suddenly began sobbing and crying. “Oh dear! oh dear!” said she.
“Don't cry. I wouldn't.”
“I can't help it; I'm tired to death; an' it ain't often anybody treats me the way you do. Folks don't waste much pity on me generally.”
“Well, they ought to. It's more than I'd want to do myself—tramping round from morning till night lugging those things. I shouldn't think you'd have strength enough.”
“My arms ache dreadfully sometimes.”
“I should think they would.” The young man said this in an absent way, looking ahead uneasily, They were coming to a house on the left side of the road. There was a blue glimmer out in the yard as they drove along; they could see through the trees that it was the blue dress of a girl who was moving about there.
The one in the wagon straightened herself up, and brushed her shawl across her wet eyes. “Don't you want me to git out now?” asked she.
“Get out?” said the young man. “Why, we haven't gone half a mile yet.” Still he looked embarrassed and doubtful.
“I didn't know but you'd want me to. We're coming to a house.”
“What if we are? The house won't mind, I guess.”
“I didn't know as you'd want to be seen riding with anybody like me.”
“I don't care who I'm seen riding with, as long as they behave themselves; and you are doing that, so far as I see.”