the river lay a sunny haze that was, as it
were, threaded with gold; as if the sun had gone to sleep there and was
in a dream; and mosses, and bushes, and lingering asters and
golden-rod, on rocks or at the edges of the fields near at hand, gave
the eye a welcome wherever it turned. Not a breath of air was stirring;
the landscape rested under a spell of peace.

Esther walked slowly, every step was so full of pleasure. The steps
were few, however, and her pleasure was mingled with an odd questioning
in her mind, what all this about money could mean? A little footpath
worn in the grass led her over the intervening fields to Mrs.
Blumenfeld's garden. Christopher must have worn that path, going and
coming; for the family had been supplied through the summer with milk
from the dairy of the gardener's wife. Mrs. Blumenfeld was out among
her beds of vegetables, Esther saw as she drew near; she climbed over
the fence, and in a few minutes was beside her.

'Wall, ef you ain't what I call a stranger!' said the woman
good-humouredly. 'I don't see you no more'n the angels, for all you're
so near!'

'I am going to school, Mrs. Blumenfeld; and that keeps me away from
home almost all the week. How do you do?'

'Dear me, I dursn't be anything but well,' said the gardener's widow.
'Ef I ain't at both ends o' everything, there ain't no middle to 'em.
There ain't a soul to be trusted, 'thout it's yourself. It's kind o'
tedious. I get to the wrong end o' my patience once in a while. Jest
look at them rospberry canes! and I set a man only yesterday to tie 'em
up. They ain't done nohow!'

'But your garden always looks beautiful.'

'Kin you see it from your windows? I want to know!'

'Not very much of it; but it always looks so bright and trim. It does
now.'

'Wall, you see,' said Mrs. Blumenfeld, 'a garden ain't nothin' ef it
ain't in order. I do despise shiftless ways! Now jes' see them
rospberry canes!'

'What's the matter with them?'

'I don't suppose you'd know ef I showed you,' said the good woman,
checking herself with a half laugh; 'and there ain't no need, as I
know, why I should bother you with my bothers. But it's human natur',
ain't it?'

'Is _what_ human nature?'

'Jes' that same. Or don't you never want to tell no one your troubles?
Maybe ye don't hev none?' she added, with an inquiring look into
Esther's face. 'Young folks!--the time for trouble hain't come yet.'

'Oh yes,' said Esther. 'I have known what trou