pleasure-boats with their wet oars gleaming in the
golden sunlight.

Her equanimity was soon restored; she would have nothing further to say
of Miss Burgoyne on such a gracious afternoon; and, indeed, when they
had crossed the Thames at Putney, and got into the opener country down
by Barnes and East Sheen and Richmond, she was chattering away in her
delight over everything they encountered--the wide commons, the
luxuriant gardens, the spacious mansions, the magnificent elms, the
hawthorn-trees, red and white, that sweetened all the soft summer air.
Of course when they arrived at the top of Richmond Hill they halted for
a minute or two at the Star and Garter to water the horses, while they
themselves had a stroll along the terrace, a cup of tea, and a look
abroad over the wide, hazy, dream-like landscape stretching far out into
the west. Then they crossed the river again at Richmond Bridge; they
bowled along by Twickenham and Teddington; finally they drove through
the magnificent chestnut-avenues of Bushey Park, which were just now in
their finest blossom. When they stopped at the Mitre, it was not to go
in; Nina was to be shown the gardens of Hampton Court Palace; there
would be plenty of time for a pleasant saunter before dinner.

Miss Burgoyne, indeed! Nina had forgotten all about Miss Burgoyne as the
little party of three passed through the cool gray courtyard of the
palace and entered into the golden glow of the gardens--for now the
westering sun was rich and warm on the tall elms and limes and threw
deep shadows on the greensward under the short black yews. They walked
down towards the river, and stood for a long time watching the irregular
procession of boats--many of them pulled by young girls in light summer
dresses that lent some variety of color to this sufficiently pretty
picture. It was altogether an attractive scene--the placid waters, the
soft green landscape, the swift, glancing boats, from which from time to
time came a ripple of youthful laughter or song. And indeed Nina was
regarding rather wistfully those maidens in palest blue or palest pink
who went swinging down with the stream.

"Those young ladies," she said, in an absent kind of way, to the little
widow, who was standing beside her, "it is a pleasant life they live. It
is all amusement. They have no hard work; no anxieties; no troubles;
everything is made gentle for them by their friends; it is one
enjoyment, and again and again; they have no