She ran plump into Duty.

"Oh!" she gasped. She was a little stunned. Aunt Olivia's Duty
was solid.

"I know where you've been. I tried get there in time."

"You're too late," Aunt Olivia said, firmly, "Don't stop me;
there's something I must do before it gets too dark. It's six
o'clock now."

"Wait!" commanded Duty. "Are you crazy? You don't mean--"

"Go back there and look at that child--and hear what she's
singing! Stay long enough to take it all in--don't hurry."

But Duty barred her way, grim and stern.

Palely she put up both her hands and thrust it aside. She did not
once look back at it.

Already it was dusky under the guest chamber window. She had to
stoop and peer and feel in the long tangle of grass. She kept on
patiently with the Plummer kind of patience that never gave up.
She was eager and smiling, as though something pleasant were at
the end of the peering and stooping and feeling.

Aunt Olivia was hunting for a key.