denly become larger, and she might have discovered more than
one range of mountains which must be crossed as the years led her
forward steadily, one by one.

There is nothing so interesting as to be able to watch the change and
progress of the mental and moral nature, provided it grows eagerly
and steadily. There must be periods of repose and hibernation like the
winter of a plant, and in its springtime the living soul will both
consciously and unconsciously reach out for new strength and new
light. The leaves and flowers of action and achievement are only the
signs of the vitality that works within.

XII

AGAINST THE WIND

During the next few years, while Nan was growing up, Oldfields itself
changed less than many country towns of its size. Though some faces
might be missed or altered, Dr. Leslie's household seemed much the
same, and Mrs. Graham, a little thinner and older, but more patient
and sweet and delightful than ever, sits at her parlor window and
reads new books and old ones, and makes herself the centre of much
love and happiness. She and the doctor have grown more and more
friendly, and they watch the young girl's development with great
pride: they look forward to her vacations more than they would care to
confess even to each other; and when she comes home eager and gay, she
makes both these dear friends feel young again. When Nan is not there
to keep him company, Dr. Leslie always drives, and has grown more
careful about the comfort of his carriages, though he tells himself
with great pleasure that he is really much more youthful in his
feelings than he was twenty years before, and does not hesitate to say
openly that he should have been an old fogy by this time if it had not
been for the blessing of young companionship. When Nan is pleased to
command, he is always ready to take long rides and the two saddles are
brushed up, and they wonder why the bits are so tarnished, and she
holds his horse's bridle while he goes in to see his patients, and is
ready with merry talk or serious questions when he reappears. And one
dark night she listens from her window to the demand of a messenger,
and softly creeps down stairs and is ready to take her place by his
side, and drive him across the hills as if it were the best fun in the
world, with the frightened country-boy clattering behind on his
bare-backed steed. The moon rises late and they come home just before
daybreak, and though the doctor tries to