It was eleven o'clock before Holcroft drove to the door with the flowers, and
he was amply repaid by her pleasure in receiving them. "Why, I only expected
geraniums," she said, "and you've bought half a dozen other kinds."

"And I expected to get my own coffee this morning and a good breakfast was
given me instead, so we are quits."

"You're probably ready for your dinner now, if it is an hour earlier than
usual. It will be ready in ten minutes."

"Famous! That will give me a good long afternoon. I say, Alida, when do you
want the flower beds made?"

"No hurry about them. I shall keep the plants in the window for a week or
two. It isn't safe to put them outdoors before the last of May. I'll have
some slips ready by that time."

"Yes, I know. You'll soon have enough to set out an acre."

The days of another week passed quietly and rapidly away, Alida becoming
almost as much absorbed in her interests as he in his. Every hour added to
the beauty of the season without. The unplowed fields were taking on a vivid
green, and Holcroft said that on the following Monday the cows should go out
to pasture. Wholesome, agreeable occupation enabled Alida to put away sad
thoughts and memories. Nature and pleasant work are two potent healers, and
she was rallying fast under their ministry. Holcroft would have been blind
indeed had he not observed changes for the better. Her thin cheeks were
becoming fuller, and her exertions, with the increasing warmth of the season,
often flushed her face with a charming color. The old sad and troubled