n I hinted its
possibility. Her theory of the mutability of species exceeded Darwin's;
for she fancied that the vegetable world was occasionally endowed with
animal life, and that the luxuriant and often poisonous vines, which
choked by their rude embrace so many tenderer forms of life, waked up,
under some unknown influence, into the snakes, of which she felt as
little fear.

As for me, I encouraged this tangle of woodland dreams across her brain,
and liked to think she dwelt apart, blind and deaf to all contamination
through its simple power.

Annie was to-day, therefore, most happy that Spring was reorganizing her
dreamland again; and while I seated myself on a stone to arrange my
materials, she ran to fill the tin cup with water from the brook below.
Then she helped me with my paints, and watched curiously all my
preparations. When these were completed, I said,--

"Now, Annie, prepare a little scene for me, and I will paint it."

At first she was reluctant to make the attempt; but I insisted, and she
did so.

The tiny thread which fed the stream below trickled over a stone beside
us, making rich with its silver beads of moisture a cushion of moss
beneath. On this Annie heaped bloodroots and anemones, a few early
violets, and one or two arbutus-sprays, and then looked up to see if I
was satisfied.

"Yes," I said, "if you will sit on that tree-stump, and leave your hand
there."

She laughed merrily, pleased to be in my first painting. I drew out my
paper, and rapidly sketched the outlines. Then I took my brush; the pale
spring beauties grew beneath its touch, and lay with careless grace on
the soft, damp moss.

Annie had resumed her Botany as the afternoon wore on, reaching forward
occasionally to note my progress; and her hand lay relaxed, the fingers
loosely clasping the last violets laid down.

I was giving most affectionate pats of my camel's-hair to the last
little pink nail, feeling more elated at this first attempt than at many
a better picture since, when I heard the tramp of horses' feet in the
road to the left of the meadow where we sat. I was too intent upon my
work to raise my eyes, and Annie sat with her face turned toward the
woods, so that I thought nothing more of it until we were startled by a
voice at a little distance.

"Well, my young friend, I suppose this studio is open to visitors?"

I looked up, and saw Miss Merton and Mr. Lang.

"We were riding, and called at the forge," said M