Save for missing the sensation of flying, which she found one of the
most delightful things in the world, she was hardly sorry to have the
walk. One could not see so much from the wheel, unless one rode slowly;
and Hildegarde could not ride slowly,--the joy of flying was too great.
It was good to look at everything as she went along, to recognise the
knots on the trees, and stop for a friendly word with any young sapling
that looked as if it needed encouragement. Also, the leaves had fallen,
and what could be pleasanter than to walk through them, stirring them
up, and hearing the crisp, clean crackle of them under her feet?
Also,--and this was the most potent reason, after all,--she could read
her letters as she walked, and she had good letters to-day.

The first that she opened was addressed in a round, childish hand to
"Mis' Hilda," the "Grahame" being added in a different hand. The letter
itself was written in pencil, and read as follows:

"MY DEER,

"I hop you are well. I am well. Aunt Wealthy is
well. Martha is well. Dokta jonSon is well; these
are all the peple that is well. Germya has the
roomatiks so bad he sase he thinks he is gon this
time for sure. I don't think he is gon, he has had
them wers before. Aunt Wealthy gave me a bantim
cock and hens, his nam is Goliath of Gath, and
there nams is Buty and Topknot. The children has
gon away from Joyus Gard; they were all well and
they went home to scool. I miss them; I go to
scool, but I don't lik it, but I am gone to have
tee with Mista Peny pakr tonite, Aunt Wealthy sade
I mite. He has made a new hous and it is nise.

"So goodbi from
"BENNY."

Hildegarde laughed a good deal over this letter, and then wiped away a
tear or two that certainly had no business in her happy eyes.

"Dear little Benny!" she said. "Dear little boy! But when is the
precious lamb going to learn to spell? This is really dreadful! I
suppose 'Germya' is Jeremiah, though it looks more like some new kind of
porridge. And Mr. Pennypacker with a new house! This is astonishing! I
must see what Cousin Wealthy says about it."

The next letter, bearing the same postmark, of Bywood, and written in a
delicate and tremulous hand, was from Miss Bond herself. It told
Hildegarde in deta