whose house I lived, came home from a long, solitary stroll in the
wild pastures, with an eager look as if she were just starting on a
hopeful quest instead of returning. She brought a little basket with
blackberries enough for supper, and held it towards me so that I could
see that there were also some late and surprising raspberries sprinkled
on top, but she made no comment upon her wayfaring. I could tell
plainly that she had something very important to say.

"You have n't brought home a leaf of anything," I ventured to this
practiced herb-gatherer. "You were saying yesterday that the witch
hazel might be in bloom."

"I dare say, dear," she answered in a lofty manner; "I ain't goin' to
say it was n't; I ain't much concerned either way 'bout the facts o'
witch hazel. Truth is, I 've been off visitin'; there's an old Indian
footpath leadin' over towards the Back Shore through the great heron
swamp that anybody can't travel over all summer. You have to seize
your time some day just now, while the low ground 's summer-dried as it
is to-day, and before the fall rains set in. I never thought of it
till I was out o' sight o' home, and I says to myself, 'To-day 's the
day, certain!' and stepped along smart as I could. Yes, I 've been
visitin'. I did get into one spot that was wet underfoot before I
noticed; you wait till I get me a pair o' dry woolen stockings, in case
of cold, and I 'll come an' tell ye."

Mrs. Todd disappeared. I could see that something had deeply
interested her. She might have fallen in with either the sea-serpent
or the lost tribes of Israel, such was her air of mystery and
satisfaction. She had been away since just before mid-morning, and as
I sat waiting by my window I saw the last red glow of autumn sunshine
flare along the gray rocks of the shore and leave them cold again, and
touch the far sails of some coast-wise schooners so that they stood
like golden houses on the sea.

I was left to wonder longer than I liked. Mrs. Todd was making an
evening fire and putting things in train for supper; presently she
returned, still looking warm and cheerful after her long walk.

"There 's a beautiful view from a hill over where I 've been," she told
me; "yes, there 's a beautiful prospect of land and sea. You would n't
discern the hill from any distance, but 't is the pretty situation of
it that counts. I sat there a long spell, and I did wish for you. No,
I did n't know a word about goin'