was not believed. Firstly, there were no Mayflowers in
Spencervale; secondly, Chris had to go to Carmody every other
day to haul milk to the butter factory, and Mayflowers grew in
Carmody, and, thirdly, the Stewarts always had a romantic
streak in them. Was not that enough circumstantial evidence
for anybody?

As for Sylvia, she did not mind if Chris had a boyish
admiration for her and expressed it thus delicately. She
thought it very nice of him, indeed, when he did not vex her
with any other advances, and she was quite content to enjoy
his Mayflowers.

Old Lady Lloyd heard all the gossip about it from the egg
pedlar, and listened to him with laughter glimmering far down
in her eyes. The egg pedlar went away and vowed he'd never
seen the Old Lady so spry as she was this spring; she seemed
real interested in the young folk's doings.

The Old Lady kept her secret and grew young in it. She walked
back to the Mayflower hill as long as the Mayflowers lasted;
and she always hid in the spruces to see Sylvia Gray go by.
Every day she loved her more, and yearned after her more
deeply. All the long repressed tenderness of her nature
overflowed to this girl who was unconscious of it. She was
proud of Sylvia's grace and beauty, and sweetness of voice and
laughter. She began to like the Spencer children because they
worshipped Sylvia; she envied Mrs. Spencer because the latter
could minister to Sylvia's needs. Even the egg pedlar seemed a
delightful person because he brought news of Sylvia--her