Here were her eyes in Carl 's little , white face -- and six weeks ago he had thought , through one endless , terrible night , that his little lad was dying . John Meredith threw down the switch . `` Go , '' he said , `` I can not whip you . '' Carl fled to the graveyard , feeling that the look on his father 's face was worse than any whipping . `` Is it over so soon ? '' asked Faith . She and Una had been holding hands and setting teeth on the Pollock tombstone . `` He -- he did n't whip me at all , '' said Carl with a sob , `` and -- I wish he had -- and he 's in there , feeling just awful . '' Una slipped away . Her heart yearned to comfort her father . As noiselessly as a little gray mouse she opened the study door and crept in . The room was dark with twilight . Her father was sitting at his desk . His back was towards her -- his head was in his hands . He was talking to himself -- broken , anguished words -- but Una heard -- heard and understood , with the sudden illumination that comes to sensitive , unmothered children . As silently as she had come in she slipped out and closed the door . John Meredith went on talking out his pain in what he deemed his undisturbed solitude . CHAPTER XXXIV . UNA VISITS THE HILL Una went upstairs . Carl and Faith were already on their way through the early moonlight to Rainbow Valley , having heard therefrom the elfin lilt of Jerry 's jews-harp and having guessed that the Blythes were there and fun afoot .
XXXXX had no wish to go .
Blythes Carl Jerry Meredith Una Valley XXXIV jews-harp night twilight