breath from the mouth of the northern woods, and peer into Evelina's
garden as through the green tubes of vernal telescopes.

Then suddenly hollyhocks, blooming in rank and file, seemed to be
marching upon them like platoons of soldiers, with detonations of
color that dazzled their peeping eyes; and, indeed, the whole garden
seemed charging with its mass of riotous bloom upon the hedge. They
could scarcely take in details of marigold and phlox and pinks and
London-pride and cock's-combs, and prince's-feather's waving overhead
like standards.

Sometimes also there was the purple flutter of Evelina's gown; and
Evelina's face, delicately faded, hung about with softly drooping
gray curls, appeared suddenly among the flowers, like another flower
uncannily instinct with nervous melancholy.

Then the children would fall back from their peep-holes, and huddle
off together with scared giggles. They were afraid of Evelina. There
was a shade of mystery about her which stimulated their childish
fancies when they heard her discussed by their elders. They might
easily have conceived her to be some baleful fairy intrenched in her
green stronghold, withheld from leaving it by the fear of some dire
penalty for magical sins. Summer and winter, spring and fall, Evelina
Adams never was seen outside her own domain of old mansion-house and
garden, and she had not set her slim lady feet in the public highway
for nearly forty years, if the stories were true.

People differed as to the reason why. Some said she had had an
unfortunate love affair, that her heart had been broken, and she had
taken upon herself a vow of seclusion from the world, but nobody