indifferent　to　the　figure　he　cut　beside　his　Amazon。　　His　gentleness　of
  disposition；　his　brilliant　conversations　with　those　whom；　like　her
  father；　he　knew　and　trusted；　captivated　Augusta。　　At　this　period　of　her
  life　she　was　awakening　to　the　glories　of　literature　and　taking　a　special
  course　in　that　branch。　　He　talked　to　her　of　Gogol；　Turgenief；　and
  Dostoievsky；　and　seated　on　the　log　piazza　read　in　excellent　French　〃Dead
  Souls；〃　〃Peres　et　Enfants；〃　and　〃The　Brothers　Karamazoff。〃　　At　the　end　of
  August　he　went　homeward　almost　gaily；　quite　ignorant　of　the　arrow　in　his
  heart；　until　he　began　to　miss　Augusta　Wishart's　ministrationsand
  Augusta　Wishart　herself。。。。　　Then　had　followed　that　too　brief　period　of
  intensive　happiness。。。。
  The　idea　of　remarriage　had　never　occurred　to　her。　　At　eight　and　thirty；
  though　tragedy　had　left　its　mark；　it　had　been　powerless　to　destroy　the
  sweetness　of　a　nature　of　such　vitality　as　hers。　　The　innate　necessity　of
  loving　remained；　and　as　time　went　on　had　grown　more　wistful　and
  insistent。　　Insall　and　her　Silliston　neighbours　were　wont；　indeed；　gently
  to　rally　her　on　her　enthusiams；　while　understanding　and　sympathizing　with
  this　need　in　her。　　A　creature　of　intuition；　Janet　had　appealed　to　her
  from　the　beginning；　arousing　first　her　curiosity；　and　then　the　maternal
  instinct　that　craved　a　mind　to　mould；　a　soul　to　respond　to　her　touch。。。。
  Mrs。　Maturin　often　talked　to　Janet　of　Insall；　who　had；　in　a　way；　long
  been　connected　with　Silliston。　　In　his　early　wandering　days；　when
  tramping　over　New　England；　he　used　unexpectedly　to　turn　up　at　Dr。
  Ledyard's；　the　principal's；　remain　for　several　weeks　and　disappear　again。
  Even　then　he；　had　been　a　sort　of　institution；　a　professor　emeritus　in
  botany；　bird　lore；　and　woodcraft；　taking　the　boys　on　long　walks　through
  the　neighbouring　hills；　and　suddenly　he　had　surprised　everybody　by
  fancying　the　tumble…down　farmhouse　in　Judith's　Lane；　which　he　had
  restored　with　his　own　hands　into　the　quaintest　of　old　world　dwellings。
  Behind　it　he　had　made　a　dam　in　the　brook；　and　put　in　a　water　wheel　that
  ran　his　workshop。　　In　play　hours　the　place　was　usually　overrun　by
  boys。。。。　　But　sometimes　the　old　craving　for　tramping　would　overtake　him；
  one　day　his　friends　would　find　the　house　shut　up；　and　he　would　be　absent
  for　a　fortnight；　perhaps　for　a　monthone　never　knew　when　he　was　going；
  or　when　he　would　return。　　He　went；　like　his　hero；　Silas　Simpkins；　through
  the　byways　of　New　England；　stopping　at　night　at　the　farm…houses；　or　often
  sleeping　out　under　the　stars。　　And　then；　perhaps；　he　would　write　another
  book。　　He　wrote　only　when　he　felt　like　writing。
  It　was　this　book　of　Insall's；　〃The　Travels　of　Silas　Simpkins；〃rather　than
  his　〃Epworth　Green〃　or　〃The　Hermit　of　Blue　Mountain；〃　that　Mrs。　Maturin
  chose　to　read　to　Janet。　　Unlike　the　sage　of　Walden；　than　whom　he　was　more
  gregarious；　instead　of　a　log　house　for　his　castle　Silas　Simpkins　chose　a
  cart；　which　he　drove　in　a　most　leisurely　manner　from　the　sea　to　the
  mountains；　penetrating　even　to　hamlets　beside　the　silent　lakes　on　the
  Canadian　border；　and　then　went　back　to　the　sea　again。　　Two　chunky　grey
  horses　with　wide　foreheads　and　sagacious　eyes　propelled　him　at　the　rate
  of　three　miles　an　hour；　for　these；　as　their　master；　had　learned　the
  lesson　that　if　life　is　to　be　fully　savoured　it　is　not　to　be　bolted。
  Silas　cooked　and　ate；　and　sometimes　read　under　the　maples　beside　the
  stone　walls：　usually　he　slept　in　the　cart　in　the　midst　of　the　assortment
  of　goods　that　proclaimed　him；　to　the　astute；　an　expert　in　applied
  psychology。　　At　first　you　might　have　thought　Silos　merely　a　peddler；　but
  if　you　knew　your　Thoreau　you　would　presently　begin　to　perceive　that
  peddling　was　the　paltry　price　he　paid　for　liberty。　　Silos　was　in　a　way　a
  sagebut　such　a　human　sage！　　He　never　intruded　with　theories；　he　never
  even　hinted　at　the　folly　of　the　mortals　who　bought　or　despised　his　goods；
  or　with　whom　he　chatted　by　the　wayside；　though　he　may　have　had　his　ideas
  on　the　subject：　it　is　certain　that　presently　one　began　to　have　one's　own：
  nor　did　he　exclaim　with　George　Sand；　〃　Il　n'y　a　rien　de　plus　betement
  mechant　que　l'habitant　des　petites　villes！〃　　Somehow　the　meannesses　and
  jealousies　were　accounted　for；　if　not　excused。　　To　understand　is　to
  pardon。
  It　was　so　like　Insall；　this　book；　in　its　whimsicality；　in　its　feeling　of
  space　and　freedom；　in　its　hidden　wisdom　that　gradually　revealed　itself　as
  one　thought　it　over　before　falling　off　to　sleep！　　New　England　in　the
  early　summer！　　Here；　beside　the　tender　greens　of　the　Ipswich　downs　was
  the　sparkling　cobalt　of　the　sea；　and　she　could　almost　smell　its　cool　salt
  breath　mingling　with　the　warm　odours　of　hay　and　the　pungent　scents　of
  roadside　flowers。　　Weathered　grey　cottages　were　scattered　over　the
  landscape；　and　dark　copses　of　cedars；　while　oceanward　the　eye　was　caught
  by　the　gleam　of　a　lighthouse　or　a　lonely　sail。
  Even　in　that　sandy　plain；　covered　with　sickly；　stunted　pines　and　burned
  patches；　stretching　westward　from　the　Merrimac；　Silas　saw　beauty　and
  colour；　life　in　the　once　prosperous　houses　not　yet　abandoned。。。。
  Presently；　the　hills；　all　hyacinth　blue；　rise　up　against　the　sunset；　and
  the　horses'　feet　are　on　the　〃Boston　Road〃or　rud；　according　to　the
  authorized　pronunciation　of　that　land。　　Hardly；　indeed；　in　many　places；　a
  〃rud〃　to…day；　reverting　picturesquely　into　the　forest　trail　over　which
  the　early　inland　settlers　rode　their　horses　or　drove　their　oxen　with
  upcountry　produce　to　the　sea。　　They　were　not　a　people　who　sought　the
  easiest　way；　and　the　Boston　Road　reflects　their　characters：　few　valleys
  are　deep　enough　to　turn　it　aside；　few　mountains　can　appal　it：　railroads
  have　given　it　a　wide　berth。　　Here　and　there　the　forest　opens　out　to
  reveal；　on　a　knoll　or　〃flat；〃　a　forgotten　village　or　tavern…stand。　　Over
  the　high　shelf　of　Washington　Town　it　runs　where　the　air　is　keen　and　the
  lakes　are　blue；　where　long…stemmed　wild　flowers　nod　on　its　sunny　banks；
  to　reach　at　length　the　rounded；　classic　hills　and　sentinel　mountain　that
  mark　the　sheep　country　of　the　Connecticut。。。。
  It　was　before　Janet's　convalescence　began　that　Mrs。　Maturin　had　consulted
  Insall　concerning　her　proposed　experiment　in　literature。　　Afterwards　he
  had　left　Silliston　for　a　lumber　camp　on　a　remote　river　in　northern　Maine；
  abruptly　to　reappear；　on　a　mild　afternoon　late　in　April；　in　Augusta
  Maturin's　garden。　　The　crocuses　and　tulips　were　in　bloom；　and　his　friend；
  in　a　gardening　apron；　was　on　her　knees；　trowel　in　hand；　assisting　a　hired
  man　to　set　out　marigolds　and　snapdragons。
  〃Well；　it's　time　you　were　home　again；〃　she　exclaimed；　as　she　rose　to
  greet　him　and　led　him　to　a　chair　on　the　little　flagged　terrace　beside　the
  windows　of　her　library。　　〃I've　got　so　much　to　tell　you　about　our
  invalid。〃
  〃Our　invalid！〃　Insall　retorted。
  〃Of　course。　　I　look　to　you　to　divide　the　responsibility　with　me；　and
  you've　shirked　by　running　off　to　Maine。　　You　found　her；　you　knowand
  she's　really　remarkable。〃
  〃Now　see　here；　Augusta；　you　can't　expect　me　to　share　the　guardianship　of
  an　attractive　andwell；　a　dynamic　young　woman。　　If　she　affects　you　this
  way；　what　will　she　do　to　me？　　I'm　much　too　susceptible。〃
  〃Susceptible〃　she　scoffed。　　〃But　you　can't　get　out　of　it。　　I　need　you。
  I've　never　been　so　interested　and　so　perplexed　in　my　life。〃
  〃How　is　she？〃　Insall　asked。
  〃Frankly；　I'm　worried；〃　said　Mrs。　Maturin。　　〃At　first　she　seemed　to　be
  getting　along　beautifully。　　I　read　to　her；　a　little　every　day；　and　it　was
  wonderful　how　she　responded　to　it。　　I'll　tell　you　about　that　I've　got　so
  much　to　tell　you！　　Young　Dr。　Trent　is　puzzled；　too；　it　seems　there　are
  symptoms　in　the　case　for　which　he　cannot　account。　　Some　three　weeks　ago
  he　asked　me　what　I　made　out　of　her；　and　I　can't　make　anythingthat's　the
  trouble；　except　that　she　seems　pathetically　grateful；　and　that　I've　grown
  absurdly　fond　of　her。　　But　she　isn't　improving　as　fast　as　she　should；　and
  Dr。　Trent　doesn't　know　whether　or　not　to　suspect　functional
  complications。　　Her　constitution　seems　excellent；　her　vitality　unusual。
  Trent's　impressed　by　her；　he　inclines　to　the　theory　that　she　has
  something　on　her　mind；　and　if　this　is　so　she　should　get　rid　of　it；　tell
  it　to　somebodyin　short；　tell　it　to　me。　　I　know　she's　fond　of　me；　but
  she's　so　maddeningly　self…contained；　and　at　moments　when　I　look　at　her
  she　baffles　me；　she　makes　me　feel　like　an　atom。　　Twenty　times　at　least
  I've　almost　screwed　up　my　courage　to　ask　her；　but　when　it　comes　to　the
  point；　I　simply　can't　do　it。〃
  〃You　ought　to　be　able　to　get　at　it；　if　any　one　can；〃　said　Insall。
  〃I've　a　notion　it　may　be　connected　with　the　strike；〃　Augusta　Maturin
  continued。　　〃I　never　could　account　for　her　being　mixed　up　in　that；
  plunging　into　Syndicalism。　　It　seemed　so　foreign　to　her　nature。　　I　wish
  I'd　waited　a　little　longer　before　telling　her　about　the　strike；　but　one
  day　she　asked　me　how　it　had　come　outand　she　seemed　to　be　getting　along
  so　nicely　I　didn't　see　any　reason　for　not　telling　her。　　I　said　that　the
  strike　was　over；　that　the　millowners　had　accepted　the　I。W。W。　terms；　but
  that　Antonelli　and　Jastro　had　been　sent　to　jail　and　were　awaiting　trial
  because　they　had　been　accused　of　instigating　the　mur