Edith Wharton - Penn State University

SummerSuddenly she lifted her hand and pointed to the sky.“There’s a storm coming up.”He followed her glance and smiled. “Is it that scrap ofcloud among the pines that frightens you?”“It’s over the Mountain; and a cloud over the Mountainalways means trouble.”“Oh, I don’t believe half the bad things you all say ofthe Mountain! But anyhow, we’ll get down to the brownhouse before the rain comes.”He was not far wrong, for only a few isolated drops hadfallen when they turned into the road under the shaggyflank of Porcupine, and came upon the brown house. Itstood alone beside a swamp bordered with alder thicketsand tall bulrushes. Not another dwelling was in sight, andit was hard to guess what motive could have actuated theearly settler who had made his home in so unfriendly aspot.Charity had picked up enough of her companion’s eruditionto understand what had attracted him to the house.She noticed the fan-shaped tracery of the broken lightabove the door, the flutings of the paintless pilasters at thecorners, and the round window set in the gable; and sheknew that, for reasons that still escaped her, these werethings to be admired and recorded. Still, they had seenother houses far more “typical” (the word was Harney’s);and as he threw the reins on the horse’s neck he said witha slight shiver of repugnance: “We won’t stay long.”Against the restless alders turning their white lining tothe storm the house looked singularly desolate. The paintwas almost gone from the clap-boards, the window-paneswere broken and patched with rags, and the garden was apoisonous tangle of nettles, burdocks and tall swampweedsover which big blue-bottles hummed.At the sound of wheels a child with a tow-head and paleeyes like Liff Hyatt’s peered over the fence and then slippedaway behind an out-house. Harney jumped down andhelped Charity out; and as he did so the rain broke onthem. It came slant-wise, on a furious gale, laying shrubsand young trees flat, tearing off their leaves like an autumnstorm, turning the road into a river, and making hissingpools of every hollow. Thunder rolled incessantlythrough the roar of the rain, and a strange glitter of light40