here and there. The little brown roof could never have revealed itself to any
but a lover's eye; and that discerned something even smaller, something like a
pinkish speck, that moved hither and thither on a piece of greensward that
sloped to the waterside.

"She's up!" Stephen exclaimed under his breath, his eyes shining, his lips
smiling. His voice had a note of hushed exaltation about it, as if "she,"
whoever she might be, had, in condescending to rise, conferred a priceless
boon upon a waiting universe. If she were indeed "up" (so his tone implied),
then the day, somewhat falsely heralded by the sunrise, had really begun, and
the human race might pursue its appointed tasks, inspired and uplifted by the
consciousness of her existence. It might properly be grateful for the fact of
her birth; that she had grown to woman's estate; and, above all, that, in
common with the sun, the lark, the morning-glory, and other beautiful things
of the early day, she was up and about her lovely, cheery, heart-warming
business.

The handful of chimneys and the smoke-spirals rising here and there among the
trees on the river-bank belonged to what was known as the Brier Neighborhood.
There were only a few houses in all, scattered along a side road leading from
the river up to Liberty Center. There were no great signs of thrift or
prosperity, but the Wiley cottage, the only one near the water, was neat and
well cared for, and Nature had done her best to conceal man's indolence,
poverty, or neglect.

Bushes of sweetbrier grew in fragrant little forests as tall as the fences.
Clumps of wild roses sprang up at every turn, and over all the stone walls, as
well as on every heap of rocks by the wayside, prickly blackberry vines ran
and clambered and clung, yielding fruit and thorns impartially to the
neighborhood children.