geline" drew water for her herd, and almost the original
herd might have fed in the meadow surrounding it, so peaceful were the
cattle cropping the grass there. They saw the "old willows" and the
ancient Covenanter church, wherein they all inscribed their names upon
the pages of a great book kept for that special purpose.

The church especially interested Dorothy, with its quaint old pulpit and
sounding board, its high-backed pews and small-paned windows; and when
she wandered into the old burying ground behind, with its
periwinkle-covered graves, a strange sadness settled over her.

The whole story had that tendency and the talk of "unknown graves"
roused afresh in her mind the old wonder:

"Where are my own parents' graves, if they are dead? Where are _they_ if
they are still alive?"

With this in mind and in memory of these other unknown sleepers whose
ancient head-stones had moved her so profoundly, she gathered from the
confines of the field a bunch of that periwinkle, or myrtle which grew
there so abundantly. Thrusting this into the front of her jacket she
resolved to pack it nicely in wet moss and send it home to Alfaretta,
with the request that she would plant it in the cottage garden. Then she
rejoined the others at the gate and the ride was continued to another
point of interest called "Evangeline Beach." Why or wherefore, nobody
explained; yet it was a pretty enough spot on the shore where a few
guests of a near-by hotel were bathing and where they all stopped to
rest their horses before the long ride home.

Dorothy was full of thoughts of home by then, and something in the color
of the horse which had drawn her hither awoke tender memories of pretty
Portia, now doubtless happily grazing on a dear mountain far away. With
this sentiment in mind she stooped and plucked a handful of grass and
held it under the nose of the pensive livery-nag.

But alas, for sentiment! Not the few blades of sea-grass appealed to the
creature who, while Dorothy's head was turned, stretched forth its own
and pulled the myrtle from the jacket and was contentedly munching it
when its owner discovered its loss.

"Dolly Doodles, whatever are you doing?" cried Molly, running up.

"She's got--he's got my 'Evangeline' vines! I'm getting--what I can!"

Molly shouted in her glee and the rest of the party drew near to also
enjoy. They had all alighted to walk about a bit and stretch their
limbs, and now watched in answering amusement