at her entrance, Olivia
winced a bit. About an hour and a half it must be, since he said it,
and he had given her a year! As if that made any difference! she told
herself, with a little defiant movement of the chin, as she crossed
the room and seated herself at the opposite side of the big
writing-table where she could face the music handsomely.

"Well, Olivia; changed your mind yet?" the professor inquired, struck,
perhaps, by the resolution of her aspect.

"Yes," she answered, in an impressive tone, "I've thought of something
I should prefer to a sun-dial."

Dr. Page took off his glasses and laid them upon his open book. He did
not really imagine that she was serious--such a turn-about-face was
too precipitate even for Olivia; but it pleased him to meet her on her
own ground.

"And what is it this time? A sixty-inch telescope? Or a diamond
tiara?"

"Well, no. Those are things I had not thought of--before! It's a kind
of gardening project--a little matter of transplanting."

"Will it cost a hundred and fifty dollars?"

"About that, I should think, to do it properly and comfortably.
And--it can't wait till June. It's the kind of transplanting that has
to be done in the autumn."

Then, dropping the little fiction, and resting her chin upon her
folded hands, the better to transfix her father's mocking
countenance,--"Papa," she said, "there's a poor family down at the
Corners,--our neighbours, you know,--and the mother is dying for want
of transplanting, just like the beautiful hydrangea--you
remember?--that I didn't understand about till it was too late. I
never knew what too late meant, till I saw that splendid great bush
lying stone-dead on the ground when we came home from the Adirondacks
last year. A great healthy hydrangea dying just for lack of the right
kind of soil! And now, here is this good human woman, that might live
out her life and bring up her little family, and be happy and useful
for years to come. Such a nice woman she must be to name her babies
Patsy and Biddy, when she might have called them Algernon and
Celestina, you know, and just spoiled it all!--and such a nice, kind
husband to take care of her on a big ranch where there's good air,
and lots to eat, and plenty of work and not too much, and--why Papa!
they might have a garden out there! who knows? What a thing that would
be for the prairie! A real New England garden!"

"With a sun-dial?" the professor interposed.

For an instant Olivi