"It was a beautiful, cool, sunny day; and after I left the Cemetery I walked along the well remembered road toward Spring Pond. It is not very far, but I had never been any nearer to it than the Cemetery since my sisters and I went away. "Such odd sensations came over me as I walked alone there amid familiar scenes: and, curiously, everything seemed to have shrunk to miniature size--houses, fields, distances all seemed much less impressive. But the Bay was intensely blue; the grasses and reeds in the salt meadows were already tipped with a golden colour here and there; flocks of purple grackle and red-winged blackbirds rose, drifted, and settled, chattering and squealing among the cat-tails just as they used to do when I was a child; and the big, slow-sailing mouse-hawks drifted and glided over the pastures, and when they tipped sideways I could see the white moon-spot on their backs, just as I remembered to look for it when I was a little, little girl. "And the odours, Clive! How the scent of the August fields, of the crisp salt hay, seemed to grip at my heart!--all the subtle, evanescent odours characteristic of that part of Long Island seemed to gather, blend, and exhale for my particular benefit that afternoon. "The old tavern appeared to me so much smaller, so much more weather-beaten and shabby than my recollection of it. The sign still hung there--'Hotel Greensleeve'--and as I walked by it I looked up at the window of my mother's room. The blinds were closed; nobody appeared to be around. I don't know why, Clive, but it seemed to me that I must go in for a moment and take one more look at my mother's room.... I am glad I did. There was nobody to stop me. I went up the stairs on tiptoe and opened her door, and looked in. _She was there, sewing._ "I went in very softly and sat down on the carpet by her chair.... It was the happiest moment I have known since she died. "And when she was no longer there I rose and crept down the stairs and through the hallway to the bar; and peeped in. An old man sat there asleep by the empty stove. And after a moment I decided it was Mr. Ledlie. But he has grown old--old!--and I let him sleep on in the sunshine without disturbing him. "It was the same stove where you and I sat and nibbled peach turnovers so many years ago. I wanted to see it again. * * * * * "So I went back to New York in the late golden afternoon feeling very peaceful and dreamy,--and a trifle tired. And found Hafiz stretched on the lounge; and stretched myself out beside him, taking the drowsy, purring, spoiled thing into my arms. And went to sleep to dream of you who gave me Hafiz, my dear and beloved friend. * * * * *