vil!"

"Yes'sum, it are gwine to rain." Mandy left the table and went to the
door, her hands full of bread dough, to peer out at the metallic
looking sky, "and 'foah ve'y long, too. See thet theah?" She pointed to
a low brownish grey line far down on the horizon.

"Oh that! That doesn't mean anything!" Arethusa was not to be deterred.

She trailed the rug after her across the orchard and into the woodland
without noticing that it was touching the ground nearly all the way.

Miss Asenath's Woods were very beautiful just now; they were always at
their loveliest in the spring. The May-apples were in full bloom, and
the ground was splotched with great clumps of them, with their straight
waxy stems and their pale green umbrella-like leaves, almost hiding the
delicate flowers. Everywhere, through the woodland, were all sorts of
ambitious, tiny trees which would be choked out later on by the
heaviness of the growth above them, but just at present they lifted
their beginning life towards the sun, each one as erect as possible;
making, all together, something that seemed like a miniature forest. A
love-vine, sentimentally named parasite, was starting its curling way
over one of the shrubs; the moss was tinted with new green; and blue
and white and purple violets showed their saucy faces here and there in
patches, scattered with bits of the straight dark-green of the spears
of the star of Bethlehem leaves which made a contrast for the lighter
color of the violet foliage. And the spring world was all very still,
and very peaceful.

Arethusa spread the rug underneath the Hollow Tree, and lay down upon
it, resting her head on her crossed arms. She looked above her into the
curving arch of those faraway branches, their gnarled age made
beautiful with the tenderness of young leaves. Some of these were so
small and delicately curly in their newness, they were almost like the
crumpling of a baby's fingers. Patches of the bright blue sky showed
through them all. An alert robin ran across the woodland like a very
fat little man in a terrible hurry, and he paused at the edge of the
rug to look at Arethusa inquiringly, his head on one side. But she
never moved an inch to notice him, and so, quite satisfied that she was
nothing that could harm him, he pecked about within three feet of her
head.

Dreaming was her favorite occupation through these spring days,
dreaming of the future and what it might bring to her. And Arethusa,
believin