The sun was hidden by gathering clouds and the air was damp
before Ruth missed the bright warmth on the piazza, and began to
walk back and forth by way of keeping warm. A gravelled path led
to the gate and on either side was a row of lilac bushes, the
bare stalks tipped with green. A white picket fence surrounded
the yard, except at the back, where the edge of the precipice
made it useless. The place was small and well kept, but there
were no flower beds except at the front of the house, and there
were only two or three trees.

She walked around the vegetable garden at the back of the house,
where a portion of her Summer sustenance was planted, and
discovered an unused gate at the side, which swung back and
forth, idly, without latching. She was looking over the fence and
down the steep hillside, when a sharp voice at her elbow made her
jump.

"Sech as wants dinner can come in and get it," announced Hepsey,
sourly. "I've yelled and yelled till I've most bust my throat and
I ain't a-goin' to yell no more."

She returned to the house, a picture of offended dignity, but
carefully left the door ajar for Ruth, who discovered, upon this
rude awakening from her reverie, that she was very hungry.

In the afternoon, the chill fog made it impossible to go out, for
the wind had risen from the sea and driven the salt mist inland.
Miss Hathaway's library was meagre and uninteresting, Hepsey was
busy in the kitchen, and Ruth was frankly bored. Reduced at last
to the desperate strait of putting all her belongings in