nd, the
wilderness of blackberry bushes in front; the wide view over the hills
and vales, without one spot of cultivation anywhere, or a trace of
man's habitation; the scene was wild enough. The soft curling smoke,
grey and embrowned, gave a curious touch of homeliness to it. From two
fires it went, curling up as comfortably as if it had been there
always. The second fire was lit for the purpose of boiling green corn,
which two or three people were busy getting ready, stripping the green
husks off. Other hands were unloading baskets and distributing bread
and butter and cups, and unpacking ham and chickens. Meanwhile, till
the fires should have done their work, most of the party were
comfortably awaiting the moment of enjoyment, and taking some other
moments, as it seemed, by the way. Mrs. Carpenter in one place was
surrounded by her large family of children; all come to pick
blackberries, all heated with work and fun, and eager for the dinner.
Miss Barry, quite tired out, was fanning herself with her sun-bonnet,
and having a nice bit of chat with Miss Babbage, the schoolmaster's
sister. Mrs. Mansfield and farmer Carpenter were happily discussing
systems of agriculture. Mrs. Boddington was making a circle merry with
her sharp speeches. Younger folks here and there were carrying on their
own particular lines of skirmishing operations; but there were not many
of these; the company had come for business quite as much as for play.
Indeed, Miss Gunn's array of baskets and tin pails suggested that she
was doing business on her brother's account as much as on her own; and
that preserves and blackberry wine would be for sale by and by on the
shelves of the store at the "Corner."

The little party that came up with Diana melted away as it met the
rest. Mrs. Reverdy glided into the group gathered about Mrs.
Boddington, and slid as easily into the desultory gossip that was going
on. Diana had instantly joined herself to the little band of workers at
the camp fire. Only one or two had cared to take the trouble and
responsibility of the feast; it was just what Diana craved. As if
cooking had been the great business of life, she went into it; making
coffee, watching the corn, boiling the potatoes; looking at nothing
else and trying to see nobody, and as far as possible contriving that
nobody should see her. She hid behind the column of smoke, or sheltered
herself at the further side of the great trunk of a tree; from the
fire, she s