When they went on again he walked
behind her, his hand upon her back pushing her up the hill. The desire
to tease her about the black-haired boy had passed and he wished he
had said nothing about the ring. He remembered the story the black-
haired boy had told him of his conquest of the woman. "More than
likely a mess of lies," he thought.
Over the crest of the hill they stopped and rested, leaning against a
worn rail fence by the woods. Below them in a wagon a party of men
went down the hill. The men sat upon boards laid across the box of a
wagon and sang a song. One of them stood in the seat beside the driver
and waved a bottle. He seemed to be making a speech. The others
shouted and clapped their hands. The sounds came faint and sharp up
the hill.
In the woods beside the fence rank grass grew. Hawks floated in the
sky over the valley below. A squirrel running along the fence stopped
and chattered at them. McGregor thought he had never had so delightful
a companion. He got a feeling of complete, good fellowship and
friendliness with this woman. Without knowing how the thing had been
done he felt a certain pride in it. "Don't mind what I said about the
ring," he urged, "I was only trying to tease you."
The woman beside McGregor was the daughter of an undertaker who lived
upstairs over his shop near the bakery.
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