as a
day to tempt one out of doors,--cool and bright, with that indefinable
crispness which belongs to Spring.

The hill rose sheer from the highlands, which sloped to the river on the
left, as she went down, and on the right to the forest. A side path into
the woods made her hesitate for a moment, but she went straight on.

It was the usual small town, which nestles at the foot of a hill and
eventually climbs over it, through the enterprise of its wealthier
residents, but, save for Miss Hathaway's house, the enterprise had not,
as yet, become evident. At the foot of the hill, on the left, was Miss
Ainslie's house and garden, and directly opposite, with the width of the
hill between them, was a brown house, with a lawn, but no garden except
that devoted to vegetables.

As she walked through the village, stopping to look at the display of
merchandise in the window of the single shop, which was also post-office
and grocery, she attracted a great deal of respectful attention, for,
in this community, strangers were an event. Ruth reflected that the
shop had only to grow to about fifty times its present size in order to
become a full-fledged department store and bring upon the town the rank
and dignity of a metropolis.

When she turned her face homeward, she had reached the foot of the hill
before she realised that the first long walk over country roads was hard
for one accustomed to city pavements. A broad, flat stone offered
an inviting resting-place, and she sat down, in the shadow of Miss
Ainslie's hedge, hoping Joe would pass in time to take her to the top
of the hill. The hedge was high and except for the gate the garden was
secluded.

"I seem to get more tired every minute," she thought. "I wonder if I've
got the rheumatism."

She scanned the horizon eagerly for the dilapidated conveyance which she
had once both feared and scorned. No sound could have been more welcome
than the rumble of those creaking wheels, nor any sight more pleasing
than the conflicting expressions in "Mamie's" single useful eye. She sat
there a long time, waiting for deliverance, but it did not come.

"I'll get an alpenstock," she said to herself, as she rose, wearily, and
tried to summon courage to start. Then the gate clicked softly and the
sweetest voice in the world said: "My dear, you are tired--won't you
come in?"

Turning, she saw Miss Ainslie, smiling graciously. In a moment she had
explained that she was Miss Hathaway's niece