"Eh?"

"The village--please direct me to it."

"Well," he laughed good-humoredly, "all the village they is you'll
strike yonder," pointing. "You keep a-goin', an' you'll git thar!"

She thanked him and set out courageously. She kept "a-goin'." The
country road was shady and dusty and sweet with mystic, unseen, growing
things. Her feet, used to hard pavements, sank into the soft dust
luxuriously. She breathed deep and swung along at a splendid pace. It
was hard to believe that she was a clerk at Torrey's! There did not seem
to have ever been handkerchiefs in the world--even all-linen, warranted
ones!

"This is Eldorado!" she said aloud, and was proud of herself for finding
it so soon--coming straight to it! Lucky she had been the one to draw
the longest strip.

She passed one or two houses, but none of them were painted green. She
said to herself she would keep on to "Emmeline's" house. The whim had
seized her and was holding on tight that Emmeline's might be the Right
Place. So she swung on buoyantly.

[Illustration: "WHICH WAY IS THE VILLAGE?" SHE ASKED.]

A stone wall bordered the road on one side, and over the wall she spied
a sprinkling of little flowers that called, "Come and pick us!" to her.
She did not know that they were bluets, but she knew they were dainty
and sweet and beckoned to her. She paused an instant uncertainly, and