"Never mind, Sally; I shall just walk through them; don't deny me! I want
to see it all again; and perhaps the arbutus is in bloom."

"Not yet, Jo."

"I can get some buds, then; I want to have some just once."

We left the carriage, and on my arm Jo strolled through the little thicket
of hemlock-trees, green and fragrant. She seemed unusually strong. I began
to hope. After much searching, we found the budded flowers; she loved most
of all wild blossoms; no scent breathed from the closed petals; they were
not yet kissed by the odor-giving south-wind into life and expression; but
Jo looked at them with sad, far-reaching eyes. I think she silently said
good-bye to them.

Presently we came out on the steep bank of the river, directly opposite
the mill. A heavy timber was thrown across from the shore to the island,
on which the workmen from the west side had passed and repassed; it was
firm enough for its purpose, but now, wet with the morning's rain, and
high above the grinding ice, it seemed a hazardous bridge. As we stood
looking over at the new mill, listening to the slight stir within it,
apparently the setting to rights by some lingering workman of such odds
and ends as remain after finishing the great whole of such a building,
suddenly the cool wind, which had shifted to the north, brought on its
waft a most portentous roar. We stood still to listen. Nearer and nearer
it swelled, crashing and hissing as it approached. Josephine grasped my
arm with convulsive energy, and at that instant we perceived Mr. Waring's
plaid cap pass an open casement. She turned upon me like a wild creature
driven to bay. I looked up-stream;--the ice had gathered in one high