"I should think you must know by this time," she whispered. I suppose he did; for he put no more questions for a minute or two. "There's one more thing," he said. "Now you know what I think of you; what do you think of me, Diana?" "I think you are very imprudent," she said, freeing herself resolutely, and picking up her sun-bonnet. "Anybody might come, Mr. Knowlton." "Anybody might! But if ever you call me 'Mr. Knowlton' again--I'll do something extraordinary." Diana thought he would have a great many things to teach her, beside that. She went at her fruit-picking with bewildered haste. She did not know what she was doing, but mechanically her fingers flew and the berries fell. Mr. Knowlton picked rather more intelligently; but between them, I must say, they worked very well. Ah, the blackberry field had become a wonderful place; and while the mellow purple fruit fell fast from the branches, it seemed also as if years had reached their fruition and the perfected harvest of life had come. Could riper or richer be, than had fallen into Diana's hands now? than filled them now? So it was, she thought. And yet this was not life's harvest, only the bloom of the flower; the fruit comes not to its maturity with one sunny day, and it needs more than sunshine. But let the fruit grow; it will come in time, even if it ripens in secret; and meanwhile smell the flower. It was the fragrance of the grape blossom that filled the blackberry field; most sweet, most evanishing, most significant. Oddly, many people do not know it. But it must be that their life has never brought them within reach of its charm. Two people in the field never knew how the shadows grew long that day. No, not even though their colloquy was soon interrupted, and by Gertrude Masters herself. She thenceforth claimed, and received, Mr. Knowlton's whole services; while Diana in her turn was assisted by Will Flandin, a young farmer of Pleasant Valley, who gave his hands and his arms to her help. It did not make much difference to Diana; it might have been an ogre, and she would not have cared; so she hardly noticed that Will, who had a glib enough tongue in ordinary, was now very silent. Diana herself said nothing. She was listening to hidden music. "There's a wonderful lot o' blackberries on Bear Hill," Will remarked at last. "Yes," said Diana. "Well, I guess we've cleaned 'em out pretty well for this time," pursued he. "Have we?" said Diana. "Why, all these folks ha' been pickin' all day; I should _think_ they'd ha' made a hole in 'em." Silence fell again. "How's the roads down your way?" began Mr. Flandin again. "The roads? pretty well, I believe." "They're awful, up this way, to Bear Hill. I say, Miss Starling, how do you s'pose those people lives, in that village?" "How do they? I don't know."