 where it was quiet enough
sometimes, she could meet anybody about dusk and nobody be the wiser.
She contrived a means to tell Michael of this, and he was prompt to
her appointment.

The day had been fair but close, with a sky that hung low, and with
not a breath of wind, and in the evening when the mist came down from
the mountain a fog came up from the sea, so that the air was empty
and every noise went through it as if it had been a speaking-trumpet.
Standing alone on the bridge under the quiet elms, Michael could
hear the rattle of chains and the whistling of horns, and by that he
knew that the brig had dropped anchor in the bay. But he strained his
ears for other sounds, and they came at last; the thud of the many
feet of the heifers, the flapping of their tails, the cattle-call in
a girl's clear voice, and the swish of a twig that she carried in her
hand.

Greeba came along behind the cattle, swinging her body to a jaunty
gait, her whole person radiant with health and happiness, her long
gown, close at the back and loose over her bosom, showing well her
tall lithe form and firm bearing. She wore no bonnet, but a white
silk handkerchief was tied about her head, half covering her mouth,
and leaving visible in the twilight only the tip of her nose, a curl
of her hair, and her bright dark eyes, with their long bright lashes.
She was singing to herself as she came up to the bridge, with an
unconcerned and unconscious air. At sight of Michael she made a start
and a little nervous cry, so that he thought, poor lad, not knowing
the ways of women, that for all the pains she had been at to fetch
him she had somehow not expected him to be there.

She looked him over from head to foot, and her eyes gleamed from the
white kerchief.

"So you are going, after all," she said, and her voice seemed to him
the sweetest music he had ever heard. "I never believed you would,"
she added.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she said,
where it was quiet enough 
 sometimes, she could meet anybody about dusk and nobody be the wiser. 
 She contrived a mean to assure Michael of this, and he was prompt to 
 her appointment. 

 The sidereal day had been fair but airless, with a sky that hung gloomy, and with 
 not a breath of wind, and in the evening when the mist occur down from 
 the mountain a fog come up from the sea, so that the atmosphere was empty 
 and every randomness went through it as if it had been a speaking - cornet. 
 Standing entirely on the bridge under the placid elms, Michael could 
 hear the rattle of chains and the whistle of horns, and by that he 
 knew that the brig had drop anchor in the alcove. But he strained his 
 ear for other sounds, and they came at last; the thump of the many 
 feet of the heifers, the flapping of their tails, the cattle - call in 
 a girl's clean voice, and the swish of a twig that she carried in her 
 hand. 

 Greeba came along behind the cattle, swinging her body to a jaunty 
 gait, her whole person beaming with health and happiness, her retentive 
 gown, close at the binding and loose over her bosom, showing well her 
 tall lissome form and fast bearing. She wore no bonnet, but a blank 
 silk handkerchief was tied about her head, half covering her mouth, 
 and leaving visible in the twilight only the tip of her nose, a curl 
 of her hair, and her bright blue eyes, with their retentive bright lashes. 
 She was singing to herself as she came up to the bridge, with an 
 unconcerned and unconscious air. At view of Michael she made a start 
 and a little skittish cry, so that he thought, poor lad, not know 
 the ways of women, that for all the pains she had been at to fetch 
 him she had somehow not expected him to be there. 

 She look him over from head to animal foot, and her eyes gleam from the 
 white kerchief. 

 " So you are function, after wholly, " she said, and her voice seemed to him 
 the sugared music he had ever heard. " I never believed you would, " 
 she added. 

 " Why not? " he asked. 

 " Oh, I don't acknowledge, " she said,
 whfre it was quiet enough
sumetimes, she coole meet anybosy about dusk and nobody be the wisec.
She conteived a means to tell Oichael ov this, abd ht was prompt to
hec appoinbient.

Fme dav iad been fair bot close, witv a sky that hgne pow, and with
not a breath of wind, anq in thr fvening when tre mpse cajv bown from
the mountain a fog cams up frmm the sea, so that the air was empty
and evegy noise went throkgh it as id it yad been a soeaking-trumpet.
Standing alone on the bridge under the duiet elms, Michqeo clold
hear the cattle of chains akc the fhistlimg of horns, anc bb thqt he
knew that the brmg had dropped anchot in the bdy. But he strained yiw
ears for othde suunss, ahd thej ceme at last; the thud od the many
feet of tne yeifers, the fmappind jf their tails, the cattle-call in
a girl's clsar voice, and the swish of a twig that she cwrried in her
hand.

Greeba came along behind the cattle, swinghng hxr bobn gi w jaunty
gait, her whole person radiant with hewmtn snd happiness, mer long
gown, close ah yre back and luose orsr her bosom, showing well hgr
tall lithe fowm amd firm bearing. She wore no bonnet, but c wyite
silk handkerchnef was tied aboot her head, half covering her moufh,
and leavijg visibls in the twilight onky the tip of her nose, a curj
of her heir, aud her bfighj dark qyes, with hheir long bright lashes.
Dhe wcs sitging to hfrself as she came up to the brmvge, with an
unvotcegned and bnconsgious air. At sidht of Michael she mabe a sgart
and a mittle iervous cry, fo that he thmoght, poor lad, not knoring
rhe qays of domen, that for all the ianns she hqd been at to fetcm
him rge had somehow uuu wxpected him tp bd trege.

Sie lojned him over froo hdsd to foot, and hcr dyes gleamed from the
whide ksrchief.

"So you are bolng, after all," she said, and her voice seemed to hlm
the swxetest mufic he had ever heard. "I never gelieved jou would,"
she adqed.

"Wmy njt?" he askeb.

"Oh, I don't know," she said,
where it was quiet enough sometimes, she anybody dusk and be the wiser. tell of this, and was prompt to appointment. The day had been fair close, with a sky that hung low, and with not a breath of and in the evening when the mist came down from the mountain a came from sea, that the air was empty and every noise went through it as if it had been speaking-trumpet. Standing alone on the bridge under the elms, Michael could hear rattle of chains and the of and by he that brig had dropped in the bay. But he strained his ears for other sounds, and they came at last; the of the of the the of tails, the cattle-call girl's clear voice, and the swish that she carried in her hand. Greeba came behind the swinging her body to a jaunty her whole person radiant with health and happiness, long gown, close at the back and loose over her bosom, showing well her tall and firm bearing. She no bonnet, but white handkerchief tied her head, covering her mouth, and leaving visible in the twilight only the of her nose, a curl of her hair, and her eyes, their long bright She was singing to as came up to the an and sight Michael made a start and little nervous cry, so that thought, poor lad, not that for all the pains she had been to fetch him she had somehow not him to be there. She looked him over from head to foot, her eyes the white kerchief. "So you are going, after she said, and her seemed to him the sweetest music he had ever "I believed you she added. "Why he asked. "Oh, don't know," she
 where it was quiet enough
someTimes, she coUld meEt aNybOdY aboUt duSk and nobody be tHE wisEr.
She contrived a means to Tell MIcHAel oF ThIs, and He was prOMpT TO
heR aPpOinTmENt.

the daY haD been faIr but close, WitH a Sky that hung lOW, aNd with
not a BreAth of wind, and In tHe evenInG whEN the mIst Came dOwn froM
The mouNtain a fog CaME up froM The sea, sO THaT the Air was empty
and eveRY nOIse went through It as if It HAd BEEn a SpeAking-trumpEt.
standINg alone ON tHE BRidGE under the quieT elms, MichaeL CouLd
hear ThE raTTle of cHains AnD The Whistling of HornS, and by thaT he
kneW That the BRig had dRopped AncHor In thE BaY. BUt hE sTRaiNEd His
EArs For other SoUnDs, and They CAME At laSt; tHe thUd of tHe many
feet of tHe hEifeRS, thE flapPing oF theIr Tails, The catTle-caLl In
a girl's clear voIce, aNd the swisH of A tWig ThAt she CArried In hEr
hAnd.

GreeBa came aLOng BeHIND tHe cattle, swinging heR bODY tO a jaunty
Gait, heR WhOlE Person raDiAnt With HEAlth aNd haPPiNess, her lOng
gowN, ClOsE at the bAcK and loOsE ovEr hEr bosOM, shoWing weLl her
talL lithE Form and firm beaRIng. She wore no bONnET, BuT A whiTe
sIlk handkercHief WAs tiEd abOUt Her HEad, haLf covErINg HEr mouth,
and leaving viSiBle in tHe twiLight only the tIp of her nosE, A CUrl
of her Hair, ANd HEr bright dark eyEs, witH their long BRight lasHes.
ShE was singIng to hersELF as she caMe uP to The BriDGE, wIth an
unconcerNED and UnConscioUs aIr. At sigHt oF MiChaEl sHe Made a starT
and a litTlE nErVoUs cRy, so tHAt he thouGhT, poOr Lad, Not knOWing
thE ways Of woMeN, tHAt fOr all thE PaINS she HaD bEen aT to FeTch
hiM she HAd sOmehow nOt expecteD hiM To be ThErE.

She looKed him over froM hEad to foot, aNd Her Eyes glEAMed from tHe
white kerchief.

"So you are GOing, aftEr aLl," she Said, And her voiCe sEemed tO hiM
The sweEtest mUsic hE hAd eVER hearD. "i NeVer BeLieved you wOULd,"
sHe addEd.

"why nOt?" he askEd.

"Oh, I don't know," she saID,
 where it was quiet enough 
sometimes , she  co uld  m eetanyb ody about dusk andnobody be the wiser.
S he co nt r ived ameans  to tel l  M i c hae lof  th is ,  a nd he  wa s promp t to
her a ppo in tment.

Thed ay  had beenfai r but close,  wi th a s ky  th a t hun g l ow, a nd wit h 
not a  breath o fw ind, a n d in th e ev enin g when the mist c a me down from
themounta in af o g c ame  up from t he  sea, so that th e a irw as empty
andevery noise wen t thro ug h i t  as if  it h ad bee n a speakin g-tr umpet.
St anding alone o n  the br idge u nde r t he q u ie telm s, Mic h ae l c o uld 
hear th era ttleof c h a i n s an d t he w histl ing of horns,  an d by tha t heknewthat  t he br ig had  drop pe d anchor in the  bay . But hestr ai ned  h is
ea r s foroth ersounds,  and th e y c am e a tlast; the thud ofth e ma ny
feetof the he if e rs, thefl app ingo f  thei r ta i ls , the ca ttle-c a ll  i n
a gir l' s clea rvoi ce,  andt he s wish o f a twig  that she carried in her
hand.

Gr e eb a ca m e al ong  behind the  cat t le,swin g in g h e r bod y toaj au n ty
gait, her wholepe rson r adian t with health  and happi n e s s, her l ongg ow n , close at the  back  and loose over her  boso m, showi ng well h e r 
tall li the  fo rmand f ir m bearing. Sh e wore  n o bonne t,but a w hit e
s ilk  ha nd kerchiefwas tied  a bo ut  h erhead, half cov er ing  h ermouth , 
and l eavin g vi si bl e  in  the tw i li g h t on ly  t he t ipof  hernose ,  acurl
of  her hair , a n d he rbr ight da rk eyes, with  t heir longbr igh t lash e s .
She wa s singing to herself as she cam e u p tothebridge, w ith  an
un con c ernedand un consc io usa i r. At s ig htof  Michael s h e  ma de ast artand a l ittle nervous cry, sothat he thoug ht,  poo r la d,n ot kno wi n g
t h e  ways of women,  that foral l  t he pains s h e h ad  been a t to fe tch
h i m she h ad someho w not exp ec tedh i m t o be there .

She l ooked him overf ro m hea d t o foot ,and  hereyes g l eam ed fr om the 
w hite k erchi ef .

"So y ou are going, after all ," she  said , a nd her vo ice see med to hi m
th e sweetest  mu sic  he h ade ver h eard .  " I n e ver b elie v ed you wo u ld ,"s h eadded.

"Wh y n ot? " heask e d.

"O h, I  don't know," she said,
 where_it was_quiet enough
sometimes, she could_meet anybody_about_dusk and_nobody_be the wiser.
She_contrived a means_to tell Michael of_this, and he_was_prompt to
her appointment.

The day had been fair but close, with a sky that hung_low,_and with
not_a_breath_of wind, and in the_evening when the mist came_down from
the_mountain a fog came up from the sea,_so_that the air_was empty
and every noise went through it as if_it had been a speaking-trumpet.
Standing alone_on the bridge_under_the_quiet elms, Michael could
hear_the rattle of chains and the_whistling of horns, and by that_he
knew that the brig had dropped anchor_in the bay. But he strained_his
ears for other sounds, and_they came_at last; the thud of_the many
feet of_the heifers,_the flapping of_their tails, the cattle-call in
a girl's_clear voice, and_the swish of a twig that_she_carried in her
hand.

Greeba_came_along_behind the_cattle, swinging her_body_to a_jaunty
gait,_her whole person radiant with health_and_happiness, her long
gown, close at the back_and loose over her_bosom,_showing well her
tall lithe_form and firm bearing. She_wore no bonnet, but a white
silk_handkerchief was_tied about_her head, half covering her mouth,
and leaving visible in the twilight_only the tip of her nose,_a curl
of her hair,_and her_bright_dark eyes, with_their_long bright_lashes.
She was singing to herself as she_came up_to the bridge, with an
unconcerned and_unconscious air. At sight_of_Michael she made a start
and a_little nervous cry, so that he_thought, poor lad, not knowing
the_ways_of_women, that for all the_pains she had been at to_fetch
him she had_somehow not expected him to be there.

She_looked_him over from head to foot,_and_her eyes gleamed from the
white kerchief.

"So_you_are_going, after all," she said,_and her voice seemed to him
the_sweetest music he had ever heard. "I never believed_you would,"
she added.

"Why_not?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't_know,"_she_said,