She got up , wrapped a shawl about her head , and went out into the darkly golden evening . The clouds had cleared away , and the moon was shining . The air was chill , with a bell-like clearness . The alders by the river rustled eerily as she walked by them and out upon the bridge . Here she paced up and down , peering with troubled eyes along the road beyond , or leaning over the rail , looking at the sparkling silver ribbon of moonlight that garlanded the waters . Late travelers passed her , and wondered at her presence and mien . Carl White saw her , and told his wife about her when he got home . `` Striding to and fro over the bridge like mad ! At first I thought it was old , crazy May Blair . What do you suppose she was doing down there at this hour of the night ? '' `` Watching for Ches , no doubt , '' said Cynthia . `` He ai n't home yet . Likely he 's snug at Blairs ' . I do wonder if Thyra suspicions that he goes after Damaris . I 've never dared to hint it to her . She 'd be as liable to fly at me , tooth and claw , as not . '' `` Well , she picks out a precious queer night for moon-gazing , '' said Carl , who was a jolly soul and took life as he found it . `` It 's bitter cold -- there 'll be a hard frost . It 's a pity she ca n't get it grained into her that the boy is grown up and must have his fling like the other lads . She 'll go out of her mind yet , like her old grandmother Lincoln , if she does n't ease up .
I 've a notion to go down to the bridge and reason a bit XXXXX her . ''
At about along as beyond by for like over with