spread of branches over the still, golden-brown pool made
beneath it by the brook. It had been a young sapling in the
days that were haloed by the vanished glory of the Old Lady's
life.

The Old Lady heard childish voices and laughter afar up the
lane which led to William Spencer's place just above the
woods. William Spencer's front lane ran out to the main road
in a different direction, but this "back lane" furnished a
short cut and his children always went to school that way.

The Old Lady shrank hastily back behind a clump of young
spruces. She did not like the Spencer children because they
always seemed so afraid of her. Through the spruce screen she
could see them coming gaily down the lane--the two older ones
in front, the twins behind, clinging to the hands of a tall,
slim, young girl--the new music teacher, probably. The Old
Lady had heard from the egg pedlar that she was going to board
at William Spencer's, but she had not heard her name.

She looked at her with some curiosity as they drew near--and
then, all at once, the Old Lady's heart gave a great bound and
began to beat as it had not beaten for years, while her breath
came quickly and she trembled violently. Who--WHO could this
girl be?

Under the new music teacher's straw hat were masses of fine
chestnut hair of the very shade and wave that the Old Lady
remembered on another head in vanished years; from under those
waves looked large, violet-blue eyes with very black lashes