and brows--and the Old Lady knew those eyes as well as she
knew her own; and the new music teacher's face, with all its
beauty of delicate outline and dainty colouring and glad,
buoyant youth, was a face from the Old Lady's past--a perfect
resemblance in every respect save one; the face which the Old
Lady remembered had been weak, with all its charm; but this
girl's face possessed a fine, dominant strength compact of
sweetness and womanliness. As she passed by the Old Lady's
hiding place she laughed at something one of the children
said; and oh, but the Old Lady knew that laughter well. She
had heard it before under that very beech tree.

She watched them until they disappeared over the wooded hill
beyond the bridge; and then she went back home as if she
walked in a dream. Crooked Jack was delving vigorously in the
garden; ordinarily the Old Lady did not talk much with Crooked
Jack, for she disliked his weakness for gossip; but now she
went into the garden, a stately old figure in her purple,
gold-spotted silk, with the sunshine gleaming on her white
hair.

Crooked Jack had seen her go out and had remarked to himself
that the Old Lady was losing ground; she was pale and peaked-
looking. He now concluded that he had been mistaken. The Old
Lady's cheeks were pink and her eyes shining. Somewhere in her
walk she had shed ten years at least. Crooked Jack leaned on
his spade and decided that there weren't many finer looking
women anywhere than Old Lady Lloyd. Pity she was such an old
miser!