decking a bower with the products of all the roots and seeds of a
deserted garden! There was many a gap in the weather-beaten fence where
the child might have followed, but she dare not, for she was in great
awe of the place, because the preacher who was said to have died and
come to life again lived there. She only stood and looked through the
fence, and the tanager--having flitted near the house--soared and
settled among the feathery boughs of a proud acacia tree; she had to
look across half an acre of bushes to see him, and then he was so high
and so far that it seemed (as when looking at the stars) she did not
see him, but only the ray of scarlet light that travelled from him
through an atmosphere of leaflets. It was very trying, for any one knows
that it is _something_ to be able to say that you have come to close
quarters with a scarlet tanager.

Winifred, stooping and looking through the fence, soon heard the college
bell jangle; she knew that it was nine o'clock, and boys and masters
were being ingathered for morning work. The college buildings in their
bare enclosure stood on the other side of the road. Winifred would have
been too shy to pass the playground while the boys were out, but now
that every soul connected with the place would be indoors, she thought
she might go round the sides of the Harmon garden and see the red bird
much nearer from a place she thought of.

This place was nothing but a humble, disused, and untidy burying-ground,
that occupied the next lot in the narrow strip of land that here for a
mile divided road and river. Winifred ran over the road between the
Harmon garden and the college fence, and, climbing the log fence, stood
among the quiet gravestones that chronicled the past generations of
Chellaston. Here grass and wild flowers grew apace, and close by ran the
rippling river reflecting the violet sky above. A cemetery, every one