great to see the face of the woman, but Hazel grew weak with
wonder and pleasure. She sat quite still trying to gather her forces
while the summer boarder expressed earnest regret at having to leave her
chosen summer abiding place so much earlier than usual. At last her
friends began to rally Hazel on her silence. She turned away annoyed,
and answered them crossly, following the landlord into the house and
questioning him eagerly. She had suddenly arrived at the conclusion that
she must see Mrs. Brownleigh and know if she looked like her son, and if
she was the kind of mother one would expect such a son to have. She felt
that in the sight might lie her emancipation from the bewitchment that
had bound her in its toils since her Western trip. She also secretly
hoped it might justify her dearest dreams of what his mother was like.

"Do you suppose that lady across the street would mind if I went over to
look at her beautiful flowers?" she burst in upon the astonished
landlord as he tipped his chair back with his feet on another and
prepared to browse over yesterday's paper for the third time that day.

He brought his chair down on its four legs with a thump and drew his hat
further over his forehead.

"Not a bit, not a bit, young lady. She's proud to show off her flowers.
They're one of the sights of Granville. Mis' Brownleigh loves to have
comp'ny. Jest go right over an' tell her I sent you. She'll tell you
all about 'em, an' like ez not she'll give you a bokay to take 'long.
She's real generous with 'em."

He tottered out to the door after her on his stiff rheumatic legs, and
suggested that the other young ladies might like to go along, but they
one and all declined, to Hazel's intense relief, and called their
ridicule after her as she picked her way across the dusty road and
opened the white gate into the peaceful scene beyond.

When she drew close to the side piazza she saw one of the most beautiful
faces she had ever looked upon. The features were delicate and
exquisitely modelled, aged by years and much suffering, yet lovely with
a peace that had permitted no fretting. An abundance of waving silken
hair white as driven snow was piled high upon her head against the snowy
pillow, and soft brown eyes made the girl's heart throb quickly with
their likeness to those other eyes that had once looked into hers.

She was dressed in a simple little muslin gown of white and gray with
white cloud-like finish at throat and