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“Could we go day after to-morrow?” I asked eagerly.

“‘T would suit me exactly,” said Mrs. Todd.

II.

One can never be so certain of good New England weather as in the days when a long easterly storm has blown away the warm late-summer mists, and cooled the air so that however bright the sunshine is by day, the nights come nearer and nearer to frostiness. There was a cold freshness in the morning air when Mrs. Todd and I locked the house-door behind us; we took the key of the fields into our own hands that day, and put out across country as one puts out to sea. When we reached the top of the ridge behind the town it seemed as if we had anxiously passed the harbor bar and were comfortably in open sea at last.

“There, now!” proclaimed Mrs. Todd, taking a long breath, “now I do feel safe. It’s just the weather that’s liable to bring somebody to spend the day; I ‘ve had a feeling of Mis’ Elder Caplin from North Point bein’ close upon me ever since I waked up this mornin’, an’ I didn’t want to be hampered with our present plans. She’s a great hand to visit; she ‘ll be spendin’ the day somewhere from now till Thanksgivin’, but there ‘s plenty o’ places at the Landin’ where she goes, an’ if I ain’t there she ‘ll just select another. I thought mother might be in, too, ’tis so pleasant; but I run up the road to look off this mornin’ before you was awake, and there was no sign o’ the boat. If they had n’t started by that time they wouldn’t start, just as the tide is now; besides, I see a lot o’ mackerel-men headin’ Green Island way, and they ‘ll detain William. No, we ‘re safe now, an’ if mother should be comin’ in tomorrow we ‘ll have all this to tell her. She an’ Mis’ Abby Martin’s very old friends.”

We were walking down the long pasture slopes towards the dark woods and thickets of the low ground. They stretched away northward like an unbroken wilderness; the early mists still dulled much of the color and made the uplands beyond look like a very far-off country.

“It ain’t so far as it looks from here,” said my companion reassuringly, “but we ‘ve got no time to spare either,” and she hurried on, leading the way with a fine sort of spirit in her step; and presently we struck into the old Indian footpath, which could be plainly seen across the long-unploughed turf of the pastures, and followed it among the thick, low-growing spruces. There the ground was smooth and brown under foot, and the thin-stemmed trees held a dark and shadowy roof overhead. We walked a long way without speaking; sometimes we had to push aside the branches, and sometimes we walked in a broad aisle where the trees were larger. It was a solitary wood, birdless and beastless; there was not even a rabbit to be seen, or a crow high in air to break the silence.

“I don’t believe the Queen ever saw such a lonesome trail as this,” said Mrs. Todd, as if she followed the thoughts that were in my mind. Our visit to Mrs. Abby Martin seemed in some strange way to concern the high affairs of royalty. I had just been thinking of English landscapes, and of the solemn hills of Scotland with their lonely cottages and stone-walled sheepfolds, and the wandering flocks on high cloudy pastures. I had often been struck by the quick interest and familiar allusion to certain members of the royal house which one found in distant neighborhoods of New England; whether some old instincts of personal loyalty have survived all changes of time and national vicissitudes, or whether it is only that the Queen’s own character and disposition have won friends for her so far away, it is impossible to tell. But to hear of a twin sister was the most surprising proof of intimacy of all, and I must confess that there was something remarkably exciting to the imagination in my morning walk. To think of being presented at Court in the usual way was for the moment quite commonplace.