ew　yards　away；　and　yet；　although　my　garden　was　full　of　manure；　and　water；　and　attentions　that　were　never　bestowed　on　the　orchard；　all　it　could　show　and　ever　did　show　were　a　few　unhappy　beginnings　of　growth　that　either　remained　stationary　and　did　not　achieve　flowers；　or　dwindled　down　again　and　vanished。　　Once　I　timidly　asked　the　gardener　if　he　could　explain　these　signs　and　wonders；　but　he　was　a　busy　man　with　no　time　for　answering　questions；　and　told　me　shortly　that　gardening　was　not　learned　in　a　day。　How　well　I　remember　that　afternoon；　and　the　very　shape　of　the　lazy　clouds；　and　the　smell　of　spring　things；　and　myself　going　away　abashed　and　sitting　on　the　shaky　bench　in　my　domain　and　wondering　for　the　hundredth　time　what　it　was　that　made　the　difference　between　my　bit　and　the　bit　of　orchard　in　front　of　me。　The　fruit　trees；　far　enough　away　from　the　wall　to　be　beyond　the　reach　of　its　cold　shade；　were　tossing　their　flower…laden　heads　in　the　sunshine　in　a　carelessly　well…satisfied　fashion　that　filled　my　heart　with　envy。　　There　was　a　rise　in　the　field　behind　them；　and　at　the　foot　of　its　protecting　slope　they　luxuriated　in　the　insolent　glory　of　their　white　and　pink　perfection。　It　was　May；　and　my　heart　bled　at　the　thought　of　the　tulips　I　had　put　in　in　November；　and　that　I　had　never　seen　since。　The　whole　of　the　rest　of　the　garden　was　on　fire　with　tulips；　behind　me；　on　the　other　side　of　the　wall；　were　rows　and　rows　of　them；cups　of　translucent　loveliness；　a　jewelled　ring　flung　right　round　the　lawn。　　But　what　was　there　not　on　the　other　side　of　that　wall？　　Things　came　up　there　and　grew　and　flowered　exactly　as　my　gardening　books　said　they　should　do；　and　in　front　of　me；　in　the　gay　orchard；　things　that　nobody　ever　troubled　about　or　cultivated　or　noticed　throve　joyously　beneath　the　trees；daffodils　thrusting　their　spears　through　the　grass；　crocuses　peeping　out　inquiringly；　snowdrops　uncovering　their　small　cold　faces　when　the　first　shivering　spring　days　came。　Only　my　piece　that　I　so　loved　was　perpetually　ugly　and　empty。　And　I　sat　in　it　thinking　of　these　things　on　that　radiant　day；　and　wept　aloud。
  Then　an　apprentice　came　by；　a　youth　who　had　often　seen　me　busily　digging；　and　noticing　the　unusual　tears；　and　struck　perhaps　by　the　difference　between　my　garden　and　the　profusion　of　splendour　all　around；　paused　with　his　barrow　on　the　path　in　front　of　me；　and　remarked　that　nobody　could　expect　to　get　blood　out　of　a　stone。　The　apparent　irrelevance　of　this　statement　made　me　weep　still　louder；　the　bitter　tears　of　insulted　sorrow；　but　he　stuck　to　his　point；　and　harangued　me　from　the　path；　explaining　the　connection　between　north　walls　and　tulips　and　blood　and　stones　till　my　tears　all　dried　up　again　and　I　listened　attentively；　for　the　conclusion　to　be　drawn　from　his　remarks　was　plainly　that　I　had　been　shamefully　taken　in　by　the　head　gardener；　who　was　an　unprincipled　person　thenceforward　to　be　for　ever　mistrusted　and　shunned。　　Standing　on　the　path　from　which　the　kindly　apprentice　had　expounded　his　proverb；　this　scene　rose　before　me　as　clearly　as　though　it　had　taken　place　that　very　day；　but　how　different　everything　looked；　and　how　it　had　shrunk！　Was　this　the　wide　orchard　that　had　seemed　to　stretch　away；　it　and　the　sloping　field　beyond；　up　to　the　gates　of　heaven？　I　believe　nearly　every　child　who　is　much　alone　goes　through　a　certain　time　of　hourly　expecting　the　Day　of　Judgment；　and　I　had　made　up　my　mind　that　on　that　Day　the　heavenly　host　would　enter　the　world　by　that　very　field；　coming　down　the　slope　in　shining　ranks；　treading　the　daffodils　under　foot；　filling　the　orchard　with　their　songs　of　exultation；　joyously　seeking　out　the　sheep　from　among　the　goats。　Of　course　I　was　a　sheep；　and　my　governess　and　the　head　gardener　goats；　so　that　the　results　could　not　fail　to　be　in　every　way　satisfactory。　But　looking　up　at　the　slope　and　remembering　my　visions；　I　laughed　at　the　smallness　of　the　field　I　had　supposed　would　hold　all　heaven。
  Here　again　the　cousins　had　been　at　work。　　The　site　of　my　garden　was　occupied　by　a　rockery；　and　the　orchard　grass　with　all　its　treasures　had　been　dug　up；　and　the　spaces　between　the　trees　planted　with　currant　bushes　and　celery　in　admirable　rows；　so　that　no　future　little　cousins　will　be　able　to　dream　of　celestial　hosts　coming　towards　them　across　the　fields　of　daffodils；　and　will　perhaps　be　the　better　for　being　free　from　visions　of　the　kind；　for　as　I　grew　older；　uncomfortable　doubts　laid　hold　of　my　heart　with　cold　fingers；　dim　uncertainties　as　to　the　exact　ultimate　position　of　the　gardener　and　the　governess；　anxious　questionings　as　to　how　it　would　be　if　it　were　they　who　turned　out　after　all　to　be　sheep；　and　I　who？　For　that　we　all　three　might　be　gathered　into　the　same　fold　at　the　last　never；　in　those　days；　struck　me　as　possible；　and　if　it　had　I　should　not　have　liked　it。
  〃Now　what　sort　of　person　can　that　be；〃　I　asked　myself；　shaking　my　head；　as　I　contemplated　the　changes　before　me；　〃who　could　put　a　rockery　among　vegetables　and　currant　bushes？　A　rockery；　of　all　things　in　the　gardening　world；　needs　consummate　tact　in　its　treatment。　　It　is　easier　to　make　mistakes　in　forming　a　rockery　than　in　any　other　garden　scheme。　Either　it　is　a　great　success；　or　it　is　great　failure；　either　it　is　very　charming；　or　it　is　very　absurd。　　There　is　no　state　between　the　sublime　and　the　ridiculous　possible　in　a　rockery。〃　I　stood　shaking　my　head　disapprovingly　at　the　rockery　before　me；　lost　in　these　reflections；　when　a　sudden　quick　pattering　of　feet　coming　along　in　a　great　hurry　made　me　turn　round　with　a　start；　just　in　time　to　receive　the　shock　of　a　body　tumbling　out　of　the　mist　and　knocking　violently　against　me。
  It　was　a　little　girl　of　about　twelve　years　old。
  〃Hullo！〃　said　the　little　girl　in　excellent　English；　and　then　we　stared　at　each　other　in　astonishment。
  〃I　thought　you　were　Miss　Robinson；〃　said　the　little　girl；　offering　no　apology　for　having　nearly　knocked　me　down。　〃Who　are　you？〃
  〃Miss　Robinson？　　Miss　Robinson？〃　　I　repeated；　my　eyes　fixed　on　the　little　girl's　face；　and　a　host　of　memories　stirring　within　me。　〃Why；　didn't　she　marry　a　missionary；　and　go　out　to　some　place　where　they　ate　him？〃
  The　little　girl　stared　harder。　　〃Ate　him？　　Marry？　　What；　has　she　been　married　all　this　time　to　somebody　who's　been　eaten　and　never　let　on？　Oh；　I　say；　what　a　game！〃　　And　she　threw　back　her　head　and　laughed　till　the　garden　rang　again。
  〃O　hush；　you　dreadful　little　girl！〃　　I　implored；　catching　her　by　the　arm；　and　terrified　beyond　measure　by　the　loudness　of　her　mirth。　〃Don't　make　that　horrid　noisewe　are　certain　to　be　caught　if　you　don't　stop　〃
  The　little　girl　broke　off　a　shriek　of　laughter　in　the　middle　and　shut　her　mouth　with　a　snap。　　Her　eyes；　round　and　black　and　shiny　like　boot　buttons；　came　still　further　out　of　her　head。　　〃Caught？〃　she　said　eagerly。　〃What；　are　you　afraid　of　being　caught　too？　　Well；　this　is　a　game！〃　And　with　her　hands　plunged　deep　in　the　pockets　of　her　coat　she　capered　in　front　of　me　in　the　excess　of　her　enjoyment；　reminding　me　of　a　very　fat　black　lamb　frisking　round　the　dazed　and　passive　sheep　its　mother。
  It　was　clear　that　the　time　had　come　for　me　to　get　down　to　the　gate　at　the　end　of　the　garden　as　quickly　as　possible；　and　I　began　to　move　away　in　that　direction。　　The　little　girl　at　once　stopped　capering　and　planted　herself　squarely　in　front　of　me。　〃Who　are　you？〃　she　said；　examining　me　from　my　hat　to　my　boots　with　the　keenest　interest。
  I　considered　this　ungarnished　manner　of　asking　questions　impertinent；　and；　trying　to　look　lofty；　made　an　attempt　to　pass　at　the　side。
  The　little　girl；　with　a　quick；　cork…like　movement；　was　there　before　me。
  〃Who　are　you？〃　she　repeated；　her　expression　friendly　but　firm。　〃　Oh；　II'm　a　pilgrim；〃　I　said　in　desperation。
  〃A　pilgrim！〃　echoed　the　little　girl。　　She　seemed　struck；　and　while　she　was　struck　I　slipped　past　her　and　began　to　walk　quickly　towards　the　door　in　the　wall。　　〃A　pilgrim！〃　said　the　little　girl；　again；　keeping　close　beside　me；　and　looking　me　up　and　down　attentively。　　〃I　don't　like　pilgrims。　Aren't　they　people　who　are　always　walking　about；　and　have　things　the　matter　with　their　feet？　　Have　you　got　anything　the　matter　with　your　feet？〃
  〃Certainly　not；〃　I　replied　indignantly；　walking　still　faster。　　　〃And　they　never　wash；　Miss　Robinson　says。　　You　don't　either；　do　you？〃
  〃Not　wash？　　Oh；　I'm　afraid　you　are　a　very　badly　brought…up　little　girloh；　leave　me　aloneI　must　run〃
  〃So　must　I；〃　said　the　little　girl；　cheerfully；　〃for　Miss　Robinson　must　be　close　behind　us。　　She　nearly　had　me　just　before　I　found　you。〃　And　she　started　running　by　my　side。
  The　thought　of　Miss　Robinson　close　behind　us　gave　wings　to　my　feet；　and；　casting　my　dignity；　of　which；　indeed；　there　was　but　little　left；　to　the　winds；　I　fairly　flew　down　the　path。　The　little　girl　was　not　to　be　outrun；　and　though　she　panted　and　turned　weird　colours；　kept　by　my　side　and　even　talked。　Oh；　I　was　tired；　tired　in　body　and　mind；　tired　by　the　different　shocks　I　had　received；　tired　by　the　journey；　tired　by　the　want　of　food；　and　here　I　was　being　forced　to　run　because　this　very　naughty　little　girl　chose　to　hide　instead　of　going　in　to　her　lessons。
  〃I　saythis　is　jolly〃　she　jerked　out。
  〃But　why　need　we　run　to　the　same　place？〃　　I　breathlessly　asked；　in　the　vain