Part 3 She dressed carefully for dinner in a black dress that her father liked, and that made her look serious and responsible. The Closing Scene. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Good-bye, aunt. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. “Come,” she said. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. S.
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