At last they came to a big river that ran along by the track. Clematis could see people fishing along the banks, and rowing on the smooth water. "I hope there is a river in Tilton," she thought. It was a long time before she thought of the peaches, and sandwiches. When she did, she knew she was very hungry, so she opened the bag, and ate, while she watched the river, and fields, and forests. One sandwich she broke in halves. She raised the cover of the box a little, and put one half inside. Then she shut the cover and tied the string. "Tilton is the next station," said the conductor, at last. They went along beside a small river, across a bridge, and the train stopped at Tilton. "I guess that little girl is for me," said a tall man with a pleasant face, as Clematis came down the steps. "Her tag says Mrs. Alder on it, is that the one?" asked the conductor. "That's right. I told Mrs. Alder I would bring her along when I came from the train." "Well, here's her bag. She won't let any one touch her box. She keeps her money in it. Goodby, little girl." "Too--too--too-too." The whistle blew, the wheels began to turn, and the long train drew slowly away. "Right over here, little girl. Climb right up on the seat. I'll hold your box." "Oh, no thank you," said Clematis. "I'll keep it." Then she looked up at the seat. How was she to climb up there and hold her box? Suddenly she was lifted off the ground, and found herself safe on the high seat. "That's the way we'll fix it," said the man, with a smile. "Up you go, money, box, and all." "Now I want to go up the street about a mile or so, before I take you to Mrs. Alder. I don't suppose you mind, do you?" Clematis shook her head. She was happy at the thought of another ride. So they drove up a long hill. As they reached the top, the man stopped his horse, and looked about. "It's pretty, isn't it?" he said. Clematis nodded, and looked all about her. The hill sloped down again into a little valley, where the brook ran between green meadows. Beyond that, the pastures ran up to meet the forest on another hill. Looking past this hill, she could see the blue waters of a lake, sparkling in the evening sun. From the lake the ground rose once more. Up and up it went, with pastures and forests, until it came to the rocky crowns of three mountains. The mountains were a deep, misty blue. Above them rose the white August clouds, rolling on and on, into the highest heaven. Clematis drew a long breath. "It is lovely," she whispered. Not far from where they stopped was a white house, with the blinds closed. Vines ran about the front, and all seemed lonely. "Who lives there?" she asked, finding her tongue at last. "No one lives there now. A nice old man used to live there, but he had a good deal of sadness. He shut up the house, and went to live in a little place over near Bean Hill." He pointed over to another hill which rose in the east.