To this clearing the Old Lady betook herself that afternoon,
walking through wood lanes and under dim spruce arches like a
woman with a glad purpose. All at once the spring was dear and
beautiful to her once more; for love had entered again into
her heart, and her starved soul was feasting on its divine
nourishment.

Old Lady Lloyd found a wealth of Mayflowers on the sandy hill.
She filled her basket with them, gloating over the loveliness
which was to give pleasure to Sylvia. When she got home she
wrote on a slip of paper, "For Sylvia." It was not likely
anyone in Spencervale would know her handwriting, but, to make
sure, she disguised it, writing in round, big letters like a
child's. She carried her Mayflowers down to the hollow and
heaped them in a recess between the big roots of the old
beech, with the little note thrust through a stem on top.

Then the Old Lady deliberately hid behind the spruce clump.
She had put on her dark green silk on purpose for hiding. She
had not long to wait. Soon Sylvia Gray came down the hill with
Mattie Spencer. When she reached the bridge she saw the
Mayflowers and gave an exclamation of delight. Then she saw
her name and her expression changed to wonder. The Old Lady,
peering through the boughs, could have laughed for very
pleasure over the success of her little plot.

"For me!" said Sylvia, lifting the flowers. "CAN they really
be for me, Mattie? Who could have left them here?"

Mattie giggled.