ran between wide-spreading lawns and flowering shrubs,
leading up the gentle slope of a hill. Where it led to, David did not
know, but he proceeded unhesitatingly to try to find out. For some time
he climbed the slope in silence, his violin, mute, under his arm; but
the white road still lay in tantalizing mystery before him when a
by-path offered the greater temptation, and lured him to explore its
cool shadowy depths instead.

Had David but known it, he was at Sunny-crest, Hinsdale's one "show
place," the country home of its one really rich resident, Miss Barbara
Holbrook. Had he also but known it, Miss Holbrook was not celebrated
for her graciousness to any visitors, certainly not to those who
ventured to approach her otherwise than by a conventional ring at her
front doorbell. But David did not know all this; and he therefore very
happily followed the shady path until he came to the Wonder at the end
of it.

The Wonder, in Hinsdale parlance, was only Miss Holbrook's garden, but
in David's eyes it was fairyland come true. For one whole minute he
could only stand like a very ordinary little boy and stare. At the end
of the minute he became himself once more; and being himself, he
expressed his delight at once in the only way he knew how to do--by
raising his violin and beginning to play.

He had meant to tell of the limpid pool and of the arch of the bridge
it reflected; of the terraced lawns and marble steps, and of the
gleaming white of the sculptured nymphs and fauns; of the splashes of
glorious crimson, yellow, blush-pink, and snowy white against the
green, where the roses rioted in luxurious bloom. He had meant, also,
to tell of the Queen Rose of them all--the beauteous lady with hair
like the gold of sunrise, and a gown like the shimmer of the moon on
water--of all this he had meant to tell; but he had scarcely begun to
tell it at all when the Beauteous Lady of the Roses sprang to her feet
and became so very much like an angry young woman who is seriously
displeased that David could only lower his violin in dismay.

"Why, boy, what does this mean?" she demanded.

David sighed a little impatiently as he came forward into the sunlight.

"But I was just telling you," he remonstrated, "and you would not let
me finish."

"Telling me!"

"Yes, with my violin. COULDn't you understand?" appealed the boy
wistfully. "You looked as if you could!"

"Looked as if I could!"

"Yes. Joe understood, you see, and I was