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“Oh, yes,” said Miss Hannah, managing to stare with unobtrusive delight at the girl while she talked. “The frost will soon be coming now, you know; so I want to live among them as much as I can while they’re here.”

“That’s right,” assented Jacob, who made a profession of cordial agreement with everybody and would have said the same words in the same tone had Miss Hannah announced a predilection for living in the cellar. “Well, Miss Hannah, it’s flowers I’m after myself just now. We’re having a bit of a party at our house tonight, for the young folks, and my wife told me to call and ask you if you could let us have a few for decoration.”

“Of course,” said Miss Hannah, “you can have these. I meant them for Millie, but I can cut the west bed for her.”

She opened the gate and carried the asters over to the buggy. Miss Delancey took them with a smile that made Miss Hannah remember the date forever.

“Lovely day,” commented Jacob genially.

“Yes,” said Miss Hannah dreamily. “It reminds me of the day Ralph went away twenty years ago. It doesn’t seem so long. Don’t you think he’ll be coming back soon, Jacob?”

“Oh, sure,” said Jacob, who thought the very opposite.

“I have a feeling that he’s coming very soon,” said Miss Hannah brightly. “It will be a great day for me, won’t it, Jacob? I’ve been poor all my life, but when Ralph comes back everything will be so different. He will be a rich man and he will give me everything I’ve always wanted. He said he would. A fine house and a carriage and a silk dress. Oh, and we will travel and see the world. You don’t know how I look forward to it all. I’ve got it all planned out, all I’m going to do and have. And I believe he will be here very soon. A man ought to be able to make a fortune in twenty years, don’t you think, Jacob?”

“Oh, sure,” said Jacob. But he said it a little uncomfortably. He did not like the job of throwing cold water, but it seemed to him that he ought not to encourage Miss Hannah’s hopes. “Of course, you shouldn’t think too much about it, Miss Hannah. He mightn’t ever come back, or he might be poor.”

“How can you say such things, Jacob?” interrupted Miss Hannah indignantly, with a little crimson spot flaming out in each of her pale cheeks. “You know quite well he will come back. I’m as sure of it as that I’m standing here. And he will be rich, too. People are always trying to hint just as you’ve done to me, but I don’t mind them. I know.”

She turned and went back into her garden with her head held high. But her sudden anger floated away in a whiff of sweet-pea perfume that struck her in the face; she waved her hand in farewell to her callers and watched the buggy down the lane with a smile.

“Of course, Jacob doesn’t know, and I shouldn’t have snapped him up so quick. It’ll be my turn to crow when Ralph does come. My, but isn’t that girl pretty. I feel as if I’d been looking at some lovely picture. It just makes a good day of this. Something pleasant happens to me most every day and that girl is today’s pleasant thing. I just feel real happy and thankful that there are such beautiful creatures in the world and that we can look at them.”

“Well, of all the queer delusions!” Jacob Delancey was ejaculating as he and his niece drove down the lane.

“What is it all about?” asked Miss Delancey curiously.

“Well, it’s this way, Dorothy. Long ago Miss Hannah had a brother who ran away from home. It was before their father and mother died. Ralph Walworth was as wild a young scamp as ever was in Prospect and a spendthrift in the bargain. Nobody but Hannah had any use for him, and she just worshipped him. I must admit he was real fond of her too, but he and his father couldn’t get on at all. So finally he ups and runs away; it was generally supposed he went to the mining country. He left a note for Hannah bidding her goodbye and telling her that he was going to make his fortune and would come back to her a rich man. There’s never been a word heard tell of him since, and in my opinion it’s doubtful if he’s still alive. But Miss Hannah, as you saw, is sure and certain he’ll come back yet with gold dropping out of his pockets. She’s as sane as anyone everyway else, but there is no doubt she’s a little cracked on that p’int. If he never turns up she’ll go on hoping quite happy to her death. But if he should turn up and be poor, as is ten times likelier than anything else, I believe it’d most kill Miss Hannah. She’s terrible proud for all she’s so sweet, and you saw yourself how mad she got when I kind of hinted he mightn’t be rich. If he came back poor, after all her boasting about him, I don’t fancy he’d get much of a welcome from her. And she’d never hold up her head again, that’s certain. So it’s to be hoped, say I, that Ralph Walworth never will turn up, unless he comes in a carriage and four, which is about as likely, in my opinion, as that he’ll come in a pumpkin drawn by mice.”