almost　bewildering　to　find　herself　in　some　degree　thus　sharing　the
  Silliston　community　life；　and　an　unpremeditated　attitude　toward　these
  learned　ones；　high　priests　of　the　muses　she　had　so　long　ignorantly
  worshipped；　accounted　perhaps　for　a　great　deal　in　their　attitude　toward
  her。　　Her　fervour；　repressed　yet　palpable；　was　like　a　flame　burning
  before　their　altarsa　flattery　to　which　the　learned；　being　human；　are
  quick　to　respond。　　Besides；　something　of　her　history　was　known；　and　she
  was　of　a　type　to　incite　a　certain　amount　of　interest　amongst　these
  discerning　ones。　　Often；　after　she　had　taken　their　dictation；　or　brought
  their　manuscripts　home；　they　detained　her　in　conversation。　　In　short；
  Silliston　gave　its　approval　to　this　particular　experiment　of　Augusta
  Maturin。　　As　for　Mrs。　Maturin　herself；　her　feeling　was　one　of　controlled
  pride　not　unmixed　with　concern；　always　conscious　as　she　was　of　the　hidden
  element　of　tragedy　in　the　play　she　had　so　lovingly　staged。　　Not　that　she
  had　any　compunction　in　keeping　Janet's　secret；　even　from　Insall；　but
  sometimes　as　she　contemplated　it　the　strings　of　her　heart　grew　tight。
  Silliston　was　so　obviously　where　Janet　belonged；　she　could　not　bear　the
  thought　of　the　girl　going　out　again　from　this　sheltered　spot　into　a
  chaotic　world　of　smoke　and　struggle。
  Janet's　own　feelings　were　a　medley。　　It　was　not；　of　course；　contentment
  she　knew　continually；　nor　even　peace；　although　there　were　moments　when
  these　stole　over　her。　　There　were　moments；　despite　her　incredible　good
  fortune；　of　apprehension　when　she　shrank　from　the　future；　when　fear
  assailed　her；　moments　of　intense　sadness　at　the　thought　of　leaving　her
  friends；　of　leaving　this　enchanted　place　now　that　miraculously　she　had
  found　it；　moments　of　stimulation；　of　exaltation；　when　she　forgot。　　Her
  prevailing　sense；　as　she　found　herself　again；　was　of　thankfulness　and
  gratitude；　of　determination　to　take　advantage　of；　to　drink　in　all　of　this
  wonderful　experience；　lest　any　precious　memory　be　lost。
  Like　a　jewel　gleaming　with　many　facets；　each　sunny　day　was　stored　and
  treasured。　　As　she　went　from　Mrs。　Case's　boarding…house　forth　to　her
  work；　the　sweet；　sharp　air　of　these　spring　mornings　was　filled　with
  delicious　smells　of　new　things；　of　new　flowers　and　new　grass　and　tender；
  new　leaves　of　myriad　shades；　bronze　and　crimson；　fuzzy　white；　primrose；
  and　emerald　green。　　And　sometimes　it　seemed　as　though　the　pink　and　white
  clouds　of　the　little　orchards　were　wafted　into　swooning　scents。　　She
  loved　best　the　moment　when　the　Common　came　in　view；　when　through　the　rows
  of　elms　the　lineaments　of　those　old　houses　rose　before　her；　lineaments
  seemingly　long　familiar；　as　of　old　and　trusted　friends；　and　yet　ever
  stirring　new　harmonies　and　new　visions。　　Here；　in　their　midst；　she
  belonged；　and　here；　had　the　world　been　otherwise　ordained；　she　might　have
  lived　on　in　one　continuous；　shining　spring。　　At　the　corner　of　the　Common；
  foursquare；　ample；　painted　a　straw　colour　trimmed　with　white；　with　its
  high　chimneys　and　fan…shaped　stairway　window；　its　balustraded　terrace
  porch　open　to　the　sky；　was　the　eighteenth　century　mansion　occupied　by　Dr。
  Ledyard。　　What　was　the　secret　of　its　flavour？　　And　how　account　for　the
  sense　of　harmony　inspired　by　another　dwelling；　built　during　the　term　of
  the　second　Adams；　set　in　a　frame　of　maples　and　shining　white　in　the
  morning　sun？　　Its　curved　portico　was　capped　by　a　wrought…iron　railing；
  its　long　windows　were　touched　with　purple；　and　its　low　garretset　like　a
  deckhouse　on　the　wide　roofsuggested　hidden　secrets　of　the　past。　　Here　a
  Motley　or　a　Longfellow　might　have　dwelt；　a　Bryant　penned　his
  〃Thanatopsis。〃　　Farther　on；　chequered　by　shade；　stood　the　quaint　brick
  row　of　professors'　houses；　with　sloping　eaves　and　recessed　entrances　of
  granitea　subject　for　an　old　English　print。。。。　　Along　the　border　of　the
  Common　were　interspersed　among　the　ancient　dormitories　and　halls　the　new
  and　dignified　buildings　of　plum…coloured　brick　that　still　preserved　the
  soul　of　Silliston。　　And　to　it　the　soul　of　Janet　responded。
  In　the　late　afternoon；　when　her　tasks　were　finished；　Janet　would　cross
  the　Common　to　Mrs。　Maturin'sa　dwelling　typical　of　the　New　England　of
  the　past；　with　the　dimensions　of　a　cottage　and　something　of　the　dignity
  of　a　mansion。　　Fluted　white　pilasters　adorned　the　corners；　the　windows
  were　protected　by　tiny　eaves；　the　roof　was　guarded　by　a　rail；　the
  classically　porched　entrance　was　approached　by　a　path　between　high
  clipped　hedges　of　hemlock；　and　through　the　library；　on　the　right；　you
  reached　the　flagged　terrace　beside　a　garden；　rioting　in　the　carnival
  colours　of　spring。　　By　September　it　would　have　changed。　　For　there　is
  one　glory　of　the　hyacinth；　of　the　tulip　and　narcissus　and　the　jonquil；
  and　another　of　the　Michaelmas　daisy　and　the　aster。
  Insall　was　often　there；　and　on　Saturdays　and　Sundays　he　took　Mrs。　Maturin
  and　Janet　on　long　walks　into　the　country。　　There　were　afternoons　when　the
  world　was　flooded　with　silver　light；　when　the　fields　were　lucent　in　the
  sun；　and　afternoons　stained　with　blue；the　landscape　like　a　tapestry
  woven　in　delicate　grins　on　a　ground　of　indigo。　　The　arbutus；　all　aglow
  and　fragrant　beneath　its　leaves；　the　purple　fringed　polygala　were　past；
  but　they　found　the　pale　gold　lily　of　the　bellwort；　the　rust…red　bloom　of
  the　ginger。　　In　the　open　spaces　under　the　sky　were　clouds　of　bluets；　wild
  violets；　and　white　strawberry　flowers　clustering　beside　the　star　moss　all
  ashimmer　with　new　green。　　The　Canada　Mayflower　spread　a　carpet　under　the
  pines；　and　in　the　hollows　where　the　mists　settled；　where　the　brooks
  flowed；　where　the　air　was　heavy　with　the　damp；　ineffable　odour　of　growing
  things；　they　gathered　drooping　adder's…tongues；　white…starred　bloodroots
  and　foam…flowers。　　From　Insall's　quick　eye　nothing　seemed　to　escape。　　He
  would　point　out　to　them　the　humming…bird　that　hovered；　a　bright　blur；
  above　the　columbine；　the　woodpecker　glued　to　the　trunk　of　a　maple　high
  above　their　heads；　the　red　gleam　of　a　tanager　flashing　through　sunlit
  foliage；　the　oriole　and　vireo　where　they　hid。　　And　his　was　the　ear　that
  first　caught　the　exquisite；　distant　note　of　the　hermit。　　Once　he　stopped
  them；　startled；　to　listen　to　the　cock　partridge　drumming　to　its　mate。。。。
  Sometimes；　of　an　evening；　when　Janet　was　helping　Mrs。　Maturin　in　her
  planting　or　weeding；　Insall　would　join　them；　rolling　up　the　sleeves　of
  his　flannel　shirt　and　kneeling　beside　them　in　the　garden　paths。　　Mrs。
  Maturin　was　forever　asking　his　advice；　though　she　did　not　always　follow
  it。
  〃Now；　Brooks；〃　she　would　say；　〃you've　just　got　to　suggest　something　to
  put　in　that　border　to　replace　the　hyacinths。
  I　had　larkspur　last　yearyou　rememberand　it　looked　like　a　chromo　in　a
  railroad　folder。〃
  〃Let　me　seedid　I　advise　larkspur？〃　he　would　ask。
  〃Oh；　I'm　sure　you　must　haveI　always　do　what　you　tell　me。　　It　seems　to
  me　I've　thought　of　every　possible　flower　in　the　catalogue。　　You　know；
  too；　only　you're　so　afraid　of　committing　yourself。〃
  Insall's　comic　spirit；　betrayed　by　his　expressions；　by　the　quizzical
  intonations　of　his　voice；　never　failed　to　fill　Janet　with　joy；　while　it
  was　somehow　suggestive；　too；　of　the　vast　fund　of　his　resource。　　Mrs。
  Maturin　was　right；　he　could　have　solved　many　of　her　questions　offhand　if
  he　had　so　wished；　but　he　had　his　own　method　of　dealing　with　appeals。　　His
  head　tilted　on　one　side；　apparently　in　deep　thought　over　the　problem；　he
  never　answered　outright；　but　by　some　process　of　suggestion　unfathomable
  to　Janet；　and　by　eliminating；　not　too　deprecatingly；　Mrs。　Maturin's
  impatient　proposals；　brought　her　to　a　point　where　she　blurted　out　the
  solution　herself。
  〃Oriental　poppies！　　How　stupid　of　me　not　to　think　of　them！〃
  〃How　stupid　of　me！〃　Insall　echoedand　Janet；　bending　over　her　weeding；
  made　sure　they　had　been　in　his　mind　all　the　while。
  Augusta　Maturin's　chief　extravagance　was　books；　she　could　not　bear　to
  await　her　turn　at　the　library；　and　if　she　liked　a　book　she　wished　to　own
  it。　　Subscribing　to　several　reviews；　three　English　and　one　American；　she
  scanned　them　eagerly　every　week　and　sent　in　orders　to　her　Boston
  bookseller。　　As　a　consequence　the　carved　walnut　racks　on　her　library
  table　were　constantly　being　strained。　　A　good　book；　she　declared；　ought
  to　be　read　aloud；　and　discussed　even　during　its　perusal。　　And　thus　Janet；
  after　an　elementary　and　decidedly　unique　introduction　to　worth…while
  literature　in　the　hospital；　was　suddenly　plunged　into　the　vortex　of
  modern　thought。　　The　dictum　Insall　quoted；　that　modern　culture　depended
  largely　upon　what　one　had　not　read；　was　applied　to　her；　a　child　of　the
  new　environment　fallen　into　skilful　hands；　she　was　spared　the　boredom　of
  wading　through　the　so…called　classics　which；　though　useful　as　milestones；
  as　landmarks　for　future　reference；　are　largely　mere　reminders　of　an
  absolute　universe　now　vanished。　　The　arrival　of　a　novel；　play；　or
  treatise　by　one　of　that　small　but　growing　nucleus　of　twentieth　century
  seers　was　an　event；　and　often　a　volume　begun　in　the　afternoon　was　taken
  up　again　after　supper。　　While　Mrs。　Maturin　sat　sewing　on　the　other　side
  of　the　lamp；　Janet　had　her　turn　at　reading。　　From　the　first　she　had　been
  quick　to　note　M