Soon after Mr. Burke left Plainton Mrs. Cliff began work upon the new park. This she could do without his assistance, and it was work the mere contemplation of which delighted her. She had legal assistance in regard to the purchase of the grounds and buildings of the opposite block, and while this was in the hands of her lawyers, she was in daily consultation with an eminent landscape-constructor who had come to Plainton for the purpose. He lodged at the hotel, and drew most beautiful plans of the proposed park. In the happy morning hours during which Mrs. Cliff's mind wandered over the beautiful drives, or stood upon the rustic bridges which crossed the stream dashing among its rocks and spreading itself out into placid pools; or when, mentally, she sat in the shade of the great trees and looked out upon the wide stretches of verdant lawn, relieved by the brilliant colors of the flower-beds, she often felt it was almost the same thing as if it were actually summer, and that she really saw the beautiful grass and flowers, heard the babbling of the stream, and felt the refreshing breezes which rustled the great limbs of the trees. She did not selfishly keep these pleasures to herself, but often on the stormy evenings, she and Willy and the Misses Thorpedyke would go over the brilliantly colored plans of the Incas' Grove, admire what had been proposed, and suggest things which they thought would be desirable. Miss Thorpedyke, who had a vivid recollection of the gardens of Luxemburg, spoke of many of their beautiful and classic features which she would recommend for the new park if it were not that they would cost so much money. All these were noted down with great care by Mrs. Cliff, and mentioned to the landscape-constructor the next day. Thus at home, in church circles, in the society of the town, and in the mental contemplation of the charming landscape which in consequence of her own will and command would soon spread itself out before her windows, Mrs. Cliff was very happy. But among all her sources of enjoyment there was nothing, perhaps, which pleased her better than to think on a cold winter's night, when the piercing winds were roaring about the house, that poor old Nancy Shott was lying warm and comfortable under two of the finest blankets which ever came from Californian looms. The great object of Willy Croup's thoughts at this time was not the park,--for she could not properly appreciate trees and grass in this shivery weather,--but the entertainment, the grand lunch, or the very high tea which was to be given to Mrs. Buskirk and daughters on the hill. This important event had been postponed because the sleighing had become rather bad and the Buskirks had gone to the city.