shady, grassy lane; I afterwards found that this garden was
called the court; perhaps because there was a low wall round it,
with an iron railing on the top of the wall, and two great gates
between pillars crowned with stone balls for a state entrance to
the flagged path leading up to the front door. It was not the
habit of the place to go in either by these great gates or by the
front door; the gates, indeed, were locked, as I found, though
the door stood wide open. I had to go round by a side-path
lightly worn on a broad grassy way, which led past the
court-wall, past a horse-mount, half covered with stone-crop and
the little wild yellow fumitory, to another door--'the curate',
as I found it was termed by the master of the house, while the
front door, 'handsome and all for show', was termed the 'rector'.
I knocked with my hand upon the 'curate' door; a tall girl, about
my own age, as I thought, came and opened it, and stood there
silent, waiting to know my errand. I see her now--cousin Phillis.
The westering sun shone full upon her, and made a slanting stream
of light into the room within. She was dressed in dark blue
cotton of some kind; up to her throat, down to her wrists, with a
little frill of the same wherever it touched her white skin. And
such a white skin as it was! I have never seen the like. She had
light hair, nearer yellow than any other colour. She looked me
steadily in the face with large, quiet eyes, wondering, but
untroubled by the sight of a stranger. I thought it odd that so
old, so full-grown as she was, she should wear a pinafore over
her gown.

Before I had quite made up my mind what to say in reply to her
mute inquiry of what I wanted there, a woman's voice called out,
'Who is it, Phillis? If it is any one for butter-milk send them