The new neighbors have come--mother, younger daughter, and servants.
The son is at West Point; and the other daughter lingers a few days,
unable, no doubt, to tear herself away from her beloved pennyroyal
and dearest Green River. They are quiet; have borrowed nothing
from any one in the neighborhood; have well-dressed, well-trained
servants; and one begins to be a little impressed. The curtains
they have put up at the windows suggest that the whole nest is being
lined with soft, cool spotless loveliness, that is very restful
and beguiling.

No one has called yet, since they are no at home till June; but
Mrs. Walters has done some tall wading lately, and declares that
people do not know what to think. They will know when the elder
daughter arrives; for it is the worst member of the family that
settles what the world shall think of the others.

If only she were not the worst! If only as I sat here beside my
large new window, around which the old rose-bush has been trained
and now is blooming, I could look across to her window where the
white curtains hang, and feel that behind them sat, shy and gentle,
the wood-pigeon for whom through Mays gone by I have been vaguely
waiting!

And yet I do not believe that I could live a single year with only
the sound of cooing in the house. A wood-pigeon would be the death
of me.



VI