no longer keep back the tears;
because she had no place in which to weep, she began to walk away from
the hotel down the line. There was no one to notice her going; she was
as free to go and come as the wild canaries that hopped upon the budding
bramble vines growing upon the railway embankment, or the blue-breasted
swallows that sat on the telegraph wire.

At first she only walked to hide her tears; then gradually the purpose
formed within her to go on to the break in the road. There was no reason
why she should not go to see the mishap. Truly there had been many a
breakdown on this road before and Zilda had never stirred foot to
examine them, but now she walked on steadily. Her fear told her that
Gilby might find some means of getting on to the next station, some
engine laden with supplies for the workmen from the other station might
take him back with it. If so, what good would this her journey do? Ah,
but perhaps the good God would allow her to see him first, or--well, she
walked on, reason or no reason.

The sun was high, the blue of the sky seemed a hundred miles in depth,
and not wisp or feather of cloud in it anywhere! Where the flat fields
were untilled they were very green, a green that was almost yellow, it
was so bright. Within the strip of railway land a tangle of young bushes
grew, and on every twig buds were bursting. About a mile back from the
road, on either side, fir woods stood, the trees in close level phalanx.
Everywhere over the land birds big and little were fluttering and
flying.

Zilda did not notice any of these things; she had only learned to
observe two things in nature, both of which Gilby had pointed out to
her--the red or yellow rose of the winter sunset, the depth of colour in
the petals of her flowers. Nature was to her like a language of which
she had only been told the meaning of two words. In the course of the
next month she learned the meaning of a few more; she never made further
progress, but what she learned she learned.

The river which, farther on, had done damage to the line, here ran close
to it for some distance, consequently Zilda came to the river before she
reached the scene of the disaster. The river banks at this season were
marshy, green like plush or velvet when it is lifted dripping from green
vats of the brightest dye. There were some trees by the river bank,
maples and elms, and every twig was tipped with a crimson gem. Zilda did
not see the beauty of the river