So again they traversed the path and this time came to the pretty garden
behind the house. Ethel was tending a flower bed. She wore her gingham
dress and a sunbonnet, and, kneeling in the path, stretched out her slim
brown arm to uproot the weeds. But the crunching of the gravel aroused
her attention, and, observing her visitors, she sprang up and hastened
toward them.

Louise introduced her uncle and herself in her most pleasant and
gracious way, and the school teacher led them to a garden bench and
begged them to be seated.

"The day is lovely," she said, "and I always find my garden more
cheerful than the house. Grandfather's illness makes the house
unpleasant for strangers, too."

Louise was surprised at this frank reference, and Uncle John coughed to
hide his embarrassment.

"I--I hope the invalid is--is improving," he said, doubtful whether he
should say anything on the delicate subject or not.

"He is always the same, sir," was the quiet response. "I suppose they
have told you that grandfather is a madman? Our great trouble is well
known in this neighborhood."

"He is not dangerous. I suppose?" hazarded Uncle John, remembering the
brutal bellowing.

"Oh, not at all. He is fully paralyzed from his waist down, poor