er old felt
slippers, and put them on before supper time. Gracious! Her stockings
were wet. She'd have to change them, too. She'd just stay upstairs till
Mr. Marsh went away. She didn't feel to talk to him.

* * * * *

When out of her window she saw him step back across the grass to Mr.
Welles' house, Elly came downstairs at once. The light in the
living-room made her blink, after all that outdoor twilight and the
indoor darkness of her room upstairs.

Mother was still at the piano, her hands on the keys, but not playing.
At the sight of her, Elly's heart filled and brightened. Her busy, busy
thoughts stopped for the first time that day. She felt as you do when
you've been rowing a boat a long time and finally, almost where you
want to go, you stop and let her slide in on her own movement, quiet and
soft and smooth, and reach out your hand to take hold of the
landing-place. Elly reached out her arm and put it around Mother's neck.
She stood perfectly quiet. There wasn't any need to be anything _but_
quiet now you'd got to where you were going.

She had been out on the rim of the wheel, all around and around it, and
up and down the spokes. But now she was at the center where all the
spokes ended.

She closed her eyes and laid her head on Mother's soft shoulder.

"Did you have a good walk, all by yourself, dear?" asked Mother.

"Oh yes, it was all right," said Elly.

"Your feet aren't wet, are they?"

"No," said Elly, "I took off my boots just as soon as I came in, and
changed my stockings."

CHAPTER VI

THINGS TAKE THEIR COURSE

_A Couple of Hours from Mr. Welles' New Life_.

I

April 10.

One of the many things which surprised Mr. Welles was that he seemed to
need less sleep than in the city. Long hours in bed had been one of the
longed-for elements of the haven of rest which his retiring from the
office was to be. Especially as he had dragged himself from bed to stop
the relentless snarl of his alarm-clock, had he hoped for late morning
sleeps in his new home, when he could wake up at seven, feel himself
still heavy, unrefreshed, unready for the day, and turn on the pillow to
take another dose of oblivion.

But here, after the first ten days of almost prostrate relaxation, he
found himself waking even before the dawn, and lying awake in his bed,
waiting almost impatiently for the light to come so that he could rise
to another day. He learned all the sounds