ahead lay the silent village, with the small, brown, one-storey,
one-roomed school-house on one side of the green, and the little white
box of a meeting-house, with its gilt weathercock, on the other.

As this scene burst upon Mrs. Slater's view, her bewilderment was amusing
to witness. Her appearance for a moment was really as if she believed
herself the victim of some sort of magic, and suspected her friend of
being a sorceress. Reassured on this point by Miss Ludington's smiling
explanation, her astonishment gave place to the liveliest interest and
curiosity. The carriage was forthwith stopped and sent around to the
stables, while the two friends went on foot through the village. Every
house, every fence-corner, every lilac-bush or clump of hollyhocks, or
row of currant-bushes in the gardens, suggested some reminiscence, and
the two old ladies were presently laughing and crying at once. At every
dwelling they lingered long, and went on reluctantly with many backward
glances, and all their speech was but a repetition of, "Don't you
remember this?" and "Do you remember that?"

Mrs Slater, having left Hilton but recently, was able to explain just
what had been removed, replaced, or altered subsequent to Miss
Ludington's flight. The general appearance of the old street, Mrs. Slater
said, remained much the same, despite the changes which had driven Miss
Ludington away; but new streets had been opened up, and the population of
the village had trebled, and become largely foreign.

In their slow progress they came at last to the school-house.

The door was ajar, and they entered on tiptoe, like tardy scholars. With
a glance of mutual intelligence they hung their hats, each on the one of
the row of wooden pegs in the entry, which had been hers as a