“Strangers don’t see you as I do,” said Mrs. Yeobright; “they judge from false report. Well, it is a silly job, and I am partly to blame.”
“How quickly a rash thing can be done!” replied the girl. Her lips were quivering, and tears so crowded themselves into her eyes that she could hardly distinguish apples from fern as she continued industriously searching to hide her weakness.
“As soon as you have finished getting the apples,” her aunt said, descending the ladder, “come down, and we’ll go for the holly. There is nobody on the heath this afternoon, and you need not fear being stared at. We must get some berries, or Clym will never believe in our preparations.”
Thomasin came down when the apples were collected, and together they went through the white palings to the heath beyond. The op
