Great　maples；　heavy　with　leaves；　stood　out　against　the　soft　blue　of　the　sky；
  and　the　sunlight　poured　over　everything；　bathing　the　stone　walls；　the　thatches
  of　the　farmhouses；　extracting　from　the　copses　of　stunted　pine　a　pungent；
  reviving　perfume。　　Sometimes　she　stopped　to　rest　on　the　pine　needles；　and
  walked　on　again；　aimlessly；　following　the　road　because　it　was　the　easiest　way。
  There　were　spring　flowers　in　the　farmhouse　yards；　masses　of　lilacs　whose　purple
  she　drank　in　eagerly；　the　air；　which　had　just　a　tang　of　New　England　sharpness；
  was　filled　with　tender　sounds；　the　clucking　of　hens；　snatches　of　the　songs　of
  birds；　the　rustling　of　maple　leaves　in　the　fitful　breeze。　　A　chipmunk　ran　down
  an　elm　and　stood　staring　at　her　with　beady；　inquisitive　eyes；　motionless　save
  for　bas　quivering　tail；　and　she　put　forth　her　hand；　shyly；　beseechingly；　as
  though　he　held　the　secret　of　life　she　craved。　　But　he　darted　away。
  She　looked　around　her　unceasingly；　at　the　sky；　at　the　trees；　at　the　flowers　and
  ferns　and　fields；　at　the　vireos　and　thrushes；　the　robins　and　tanagers　gashing
  in　and　out　amidst　the　foliage；　and　she　was　filled　with　a　strange　yearning　to
  expand　and　expand　until　she　should　become　a　part　of　all　nature；　be　absorbed
  into　it；　cease　to　be　herself。　　Never　before　had　she　known　just　that　feeling；
  that　degree　of　ecstasy　mingled　with　divine　discontent　。。。。　　Occasionally；
  intruding　faintly　upon　the　countryside　peace；　she　was　aware　of　a　distant
  humming　sound　that　grew　louder　and　louder　until　there　shot　roaring　past　her　an
  automobile　filled　with　noisy　folk；　leaving　behind　it　a　suffocating　cloud　of
  dust。　　Even　these　intrusions；　reminders　of　the　city　she　had　left；　were
  powerless　to　destroy　her　mood；　and　she　began　to　skip；　like　a　schoolgirl；
  pausing　once　in　a　while　to　look　around　her　fearfully；　lest　she　was　observed；
  and　it　pleased　her　to　think　that　she　had　escaped　forever；　that　she　would　never
  go　back：　she　cried　aloud；　as　she　skipped；　〃I　won't　go　back；　I　won't　go　back；〃
  keeping　time　with　her　feet　until　she　was　out　of　breath　and　almost　intoxicated；
  delirious；　casting　herself　down；　her　heart　beating　wildly；　on　a　bank　of　ferns；
  burying　her　face　in　them。　　She　had　really　stopped　because　a　pebble　had　got　into
  her　shoe；　and　as　she　took　it　out　she　looked　at　her　bare　heel　and　remarked
  ruefully：
  〃Those　twenty…five　cent　stockings　aren't　worth　buying！〃
  Economic　problems；　however；　were　powerless　to　worry　her　to…day；　when　the　sun
  shone　and　the　wind　blew　and　the　ferns；　washed　by　the　rill　running　through　the
  culvert　under　the　road；　gave　forth　a　delicious　moist　odour　reminding　her　of　the
  flower　store　where　her　sister　Lise　had　once　been　employed。　　But　at　length　she
  arose；　and　after　an　hour　or　more　of　sauntering　the　farming　landscape　was　left
  behind；　the　crumbling　stone　fences　were　replaced　by　a　well…kept　retaining　wall
  capped　by　a　privet　hedge；　through　which；　between　stone　pillars；　a　driveway
  entered　and　mounted　the　shaded　slope；　turning　and　twisting　until　lost　to　view。
  But　afar；　standing　on　the　distant　crest；　through　the　tree　trunks　and　foliage
  Janet　saw　one　end　of　the　mansion　to　which　it　led；　and　ventured　timidly　but
  eagerly　in　among　the　trees　in　the　hope　of　satisfying　her　new…born　curiosity。
  Try　as　she　would；　she　never　could　get　any　but　disappointing　and　partial
  glimpses　of　a　house　which；　because　of　the　mystery　of　its　setting；　fired　her
  imagination；　started　her　to　wondering　why　it　was　that　some　were　permitted　to
  live　in　the　midst　of　such　beauty　while　she　was　condemned　to　spend　her　days　in
  Fillmore　Street　and　the　prison　of　the　mill。　　She　was　not　even　allowed　to　look
  at　it！　　The　thought　was　like　a　cloud　across　the　sun。
  However；　when　she　had　regained　the　tarvia　road　and　walked　a　little　way　the
  shadow　suddenly　passed；　and　she　stood　surprised。　　The　sight　of　a　long　common
  with　its　ancient　trees　in　the　fullness　of　glory；　dense　maples；　sturdy　oaks；
  strong；　graceful　elms　that　cast　flickering；　lacy　shadows　across　the　road　filled
  her　with　satisfaction；　with　a　sense　of　peace　deepened　by　the　awareness；　in　the
  background；　ranged　along　the　common　on　either　side；　of　stately；　dignified
  buildings；　each　in　an　appropriate　frame　of　foliage。　　With　the　essence　rather
  than　the　detail　of　all　this　her　consciousness　became　steeped；　she　was　naturally
  ignorant　of　the　great　good　fortune　of　Silliston　Academy　of　having　been　spared
  with　one　or　two　exceptionsdonations　during　those　artistically　lean　years　of
  the　nineteenth　century　when　American　architecture　affected　the　Gothic；　the
  Mansard；　and　the　subsequent　hybrid。　　She　knew　this　must　be　Silliston；　the　seat
  of　that　famous　academy　of　which　she　had　heard。
  The　older　school　buildings　and　instructors'　houses；　most　of　them　white　or
  creamy　yellow；　were　native　Colonial；　with　tall；　graceful　chimneys　and　classic
  pillars　and　delicate　balustrades；　eloquent　at　once　of　the　racial　inheritance　of
  the　Republic　and　of　a　bygone　individuality；　dignity；　and　pride。　　And　the　modern
  architect；　of　whose　work　there　was　an　abundance；　had　graciously　and　intuitively
  held　this　earlier　note　and　developed　it。　　He　was　an　American；　but　an　American
  who　had　been　trained。　　The　result　was　harmony；　life　as　it　should　proceed；　the
  new　growing　out　of　the　old。　　And　no　greater　tribute　can　be　paid　to　Janet　Bumpus
  than　that　it　pleased　her；　struck　and　set　exquisitely　vibrating　within　her
  responsive　chords。　　For　the　first　time　in　her　adult　life　she　stood　in　the
  presence　of　tradition；　of　a　tradition　inherently　if　unconsciously　the　innermost
  reality　of　her　being　a　tradition　that　miraculously　was　not　dead；　since　after
  all　the　years　it　had　begun　to　put　forth　these　vigorous　shoots。。。。
  What　Janet　chiefly　realized　was　the　delicious；　contented　sense　of　having　come；
  visually　at　least；　to　the　home　for　which　she　had　longed。　　But　her　humour　was
  that　of　a　child　who　has　strayed；　to　find　its　true　dwelling　place　in　a　region　of
  beauty　hitherto　unexplored　and　unexperienced；　tinged；　therefore；　with
  unreality；　with　mystery；an　effect　enhanced　by　the　chance　stillness　and
  emptiness　of　the　place。　　She　wandered　up　and　down　the　Common；　whose　vivid　green
  was　starred　with　golden　dandelions；　　and　then；　spying　the　arched　and　shady
  vista　of　a　lane；　entered　it；　bent　on　new　discoveries。　　It　led　past　one　of　the
  newer　buildings；　the　libraryas　she　read　in　a　carved　inscription　over　the
  doorplunged　into　shade　again　presently　to　emerge　at　a　square　farmhouse；
  ancient　and　weathered；　with　a　great　square　chimney　thrust　out　of　the　very
  middle　of　the　ridge…pole；a　landmark　left　by　one　of　the　earliest　of
  Silliston's　settlers。　　Presiding　over　it；　embracing　and　protecting　it；　was　a
  splendid　tree。　　The　place　was　evidently　in　process　of　reconstruction　and
  repair；　the　roof　had　been　newly　shingled；　new　frames；　with　old…fashioned；　tiny
  panes　had　been　put　in　the　windows；　a　little　garden　was　being　laid　out　under　the
  sheltering　branches　of　the　tree；　and　between　the　lane　and　the　garden；　half
  finished；　was　a　fence　of　an　original　and　pleasing　design；　consisting　of　pillars
  placed　at　intervals　with　upright　pickets　between；　the　pickets　sawed　in　curves；
  making　a　line　that　drooped　in　the　middle。　　Janet　did　not　perceive　the　workman
  engaged　in　building　this　fence　until　the　sound　of　his　hammer　attracted　her
  attention。　　His　back　was　bent；　he　was　absorbed　in　his　task。
  〃Are　there　any　stores　near　here？〃　she　inquired。
  He　straightened　up。　　〃Why　yes；〃　he　replied；　〃come　to　think　of　it；　I　have　seen
  stores；　I'm　sure　I　have。〃
  Janet　laughed；　his　expression；　his　manner　of　speech　were　so　delightfully
  whimsical；　so　in　keeping　with　the　spirit　of　her　day；　and　he　seemed　to　accept
  her　sudden　appearance　in　the　precise　make…believe　humour　she　could　have　wished。
  And　yet　she　stood　a　little　struck　with　timidity；　puzzled　by　the　contradictions
  he　presented　of　youth　and　age；　of　shrewdness；　experience　and　candour；　of
  gentility　and　manual　toil。　　He　must　have　been　about　thirty…five；　he　was
  hatless；　and　his　hair；　uncombed　but　not　unkempt；　was　greying　at　the　temples；
  his　eyeswhich　she　noticed　particularlywere　keen　yet　kindly；　the　irises
  delicately　stencilled　in　a　remarkable　blue；　his　speech　was　colloquial　yet
  cultivated；　his　workman's　clothes　belied　his　bearing。
  〃Yes；　there　are　stores；　in　the　village；〃　he　went　on；　〃but　isn't　it　a　holiday；
  or　Sundayperhapsor　something　of　the　kind？〃
  〃It's　Decoration　Day；〃　she　reminded　him；　with　deepening　surprise。
  〃So　it　is！　　And　all　the　storekeepers　have　gone　on　picnics　in　their　automobiles；
  or　else　they're　playing　golf。　　Nobody's　working　today。〃
  〃But　youaren't　you　working？〃　she　inquired。
  〃Working？〃　he　repeated。　　〃I　suppose　some　people　would　call　it　work。　　II
  hadn't　thought　of　it　in　that　way。〃
  〃You　meanyou　like　it；〃　Janet　was　inspired　to　say。
  〃Well；　yes；〃　he　confessed。　　〃I　suppose　I　do。〃
  Her　cheeks　dimpled。　　If　her　wonder　had　increased；　her　embarrassment　had　flown；
  and　he　seemed　suddenly　an　old　acquaintance。　　She　had；　however；　profound　doubts
  now　of　his　being　a　carpenter。
  〃Were　you　thinking　of　going　shopping？〃　he　asked；　and　at　the　very　ludicrousness
  of　the　notion　she　laughed　again。　　She　discovered　a　keen　relish　for　this　kind　of
  humour；　but　it　was　new　to　her　experience；　and　she　could　not　cope　with　it。
  〃Onl