By the time dinner was over the sun was shining brightly, and he asked her if
she would not like to go up the lane to his woodland to see the view. Her
pleased look was sufficient answer. "But are you sure you are strong enough?"
he persisted.

"Yes, it will do me good to go out, and I may find some wild flowers."

"I guess you can, a million or two."

By the time he was through at the barn she was ready and they started up the
lane, now green with late April grass and enlivened with dandelions in which
bumblebees were wallowing. The sun had dried the moisture sufficiently for
them to pass on dry-shod, but everything had the fresh, vernal aspect that
follows a warm rain. Spring had advanced with a great bound since the day
before. The glazed and glutinous cherry buds had expanded with aromatic odors
and the white of the blossoms was beginning to show.

"By tomorrow," said Holcroft, "the trees will look as if covered with snow.
Let me help you," and he put his hand under her arm, supporting and aiding her
steps up the steep places.

Her lips were parted, the pleased look was in her eyes as they rested on trees
and shrubs which lined the half ruinous stone walls on either side.
"Everything seems so alive and glad this afternoon," she remarked.

"Yes," replied the matter-of-fact farmer. "A rain such as we had this morning
is like turning the water on a big mill-wheel. It starts all the machinery
right up. Now the sun's out, and that's the greatest motor power of all. Sun
and moisture make the farm go."