Edith Wharton - Penn State University

Summereyes of the tow-headed boy and of a pale little girl with ascar across her cheek. Charity smiled, and signed to thechildren to come in; but as soon as they saw they werediscovered they slipped away on bare feet. It occurred toher that they were afraid of rousing the sleeping man; andprobably the woman shared their fear, for she moved aboutas noiselessly and avoided going near the stove.The rain continued to beat against the house, and in oneor two places it sent a stream through the patched panesand ran into pools on the floor. Every now and then thekitten mewed and struggled down, and the old womanstooped and caught it, holding it tight in her bony hands;and once or twice the man on the barrel half woke, changedhis position and dozed again, his head falling forward onhis hairy breast. As the minutes passed, and the rain stillstreamed against the windows, a loathing of the place andthe people came over Charity. The sight of the weakmindedold woman, of the cowed children, and the raggedman sleeping off his liquor, made the setting of her ownlife seem a vision of peace and plenty. She thought of thekitchen at Mr. Royall’s, with its scrubbed floor and dresserfull of china, and the peculiar smell of yeast and coffeeand soft-soap that she had always hated, but that nowseemed the very symbol of household order. She saw Mr.Royall’s room, with the high-backed horsehair chair, thefaded rag carpet, the row of books on a shelf, the engravingof “The Surrender of Burgoyne” over the stove, andthe mat with a brown and white spaniel on a moss-greenborder. And then her mind travelled to Miss Hatchard’shouse, where all was freshness, purity and fragrance, andcompared to which the red house had always seemed sopoor and plain.“This is where I belong—this is where I belong,” shekept repeating to herself; but the words had no meaningfor her. Every instinct and habit made her a stranger amongthese poor swamp-people living like vermin in their lair.With all her soul she wished she had not yielded toHarney’s curiosity, and brought him there.The rain had drenched her, and she began to shiver underthe thin folds of her dress. The younger woman must havenoticed it, for she went out of the room and came back witha broken tea-cup which she offered to Charity. It was half42