"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. It dropped sideways and fell with a bang to the table. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot.
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