"I think, although it is only mere conjecture on my part, that Mrs. Roe herself is the heroine of this book. For that reason I shall not attempt to say anything of the lady, as the reader can turn to the book and satisfy all curiosity there. But if I should find, at some future time, that I am mistaken in my surmise, I shall make that my excuse for the pleasant task of writing again of Mrs. Roe. The old homestead is described in the 'Opening of a Chestnut Burr,' and naturally this would endear the book to those who lived there. "The library in which Mr. Roe does his writing, when at home, is a sunny room filled from floor to ceiling with books. A large flat desk, covered with papers, stands in the centre of the room, and this is the novelist's work-bench. I shall conclude with a few words regarding Mr. Roe's method of working. Mr. Roe himself has supplied this in a letter written nearly a year ago, to an admirer, and part of which I am allowed to copy. This extract forms a portion of Mr. Roe's work never before published, and the writer himself had no idea it would ever appear in print. The letter bears date November 25, 1878. He says:-- "'My aim is to spend the earlier part of the day in my study, but I cannot always control my time, much of which is lost in interruptions. I sometimes have to go away and shut myself up for a time. I am not as systematic as I ought to be. I like to write the latter part of my books at white heat, first getting full of my story and then writing with a zest. I call from five to eight pages a good day's work, although in some moods I write many more. Again, I will work hard over three or four. I am opposed to night work. "'I hope to average five hours a day hereafter in my study, and three or four in my garden. I employ from ten to fifteen men and from ten to thirty boys in picking the berries. A large part of my labor is employed in taking up and packing plants. The department of fruit culture to which I give my chief attention, is the keeping of each variety separate and pure. This I trust to no one, and it requires constant vigilance.' "After leaving the residence of Mr. Roe, we went half a mile or so farther on to Idlewild, once the home of N. P. Willis. Darkness came on before we reached there and we had our labor for our pains. "Mrs. Roe said that Idlewild is little changed since the poet left it. A recent freshet swept away the bridges he built in the Glen, but otherwise it is the same as it was before. Thus ended our visit to Cornwall-on-the-Hudson." CHAPTER XI SANTA BARBARA