He had the satisfaction after a little to see her come down the path, pause with a puzzled look beside the branches in her way, send a swift reconnoitering look about her, then with a smile and a murmured expression of delight, place them in her basket, the crowning glory of the whole. Then another scrutinizing sweep of her eyes, all about her,—half-frightened this time, as if she just realized that she was not alone, and she took up her basket and sped away like the wind. Had she only known how true and good a man stood guard over her she need not have put herself in such a flutter. She walked steadily on, bearing her burden as bravely as though it were customary for the young ladies to walk through city streets carrying large baskets. Lily Winthrop's home was on one of the broad avenues; a large old mansion that had been palatial in its day, but now owed its chief attraction to its location, and the fine grounds surrounding it. She was met in the broad gateway by a tall, silver haired old gentleman, who looked reproachfully at the basket and said: "Lily, my child, is it possible you have brought that through the streets? Why did you not take Gretchen with you to carry it?" "O, Grandpa! it is not at all heavy, and Gretchen was busy. See my spoils; look at that lovely bright maple branch. It is the strangest thing where that came from. I tried so hard to get it, but it was above my reach, and when I came back that way, there it lay right in the path! It must have been some good fairy or friendly squirrel who took pity on me. Aren't these ferns beautiful?" "What if you had met the Berkeleys or the Madisons, and you carrying a great basket like any market woman?" "I would have made my best bow to them, Grandpa, exactly as if I had nothing in my hand, and with my best clothes on, was sailing out to kill time; and I would have shown them all my worldly treasures, and perhaps I would have given them this lovely little bouquet which I will now give to you, my best grandpa, if you don't scold me any more." And she fastened on his coat a small bunch of scarlet berries, tiny white flowers, and dark leaves. The old gentleman smiled down into her merry eyes, despite his vexation, and put his arm about her fondly. "Poor child!" he said. "How can you keep a gay heart under such crosses as you have to carry!" "All the crosses I carry are good for me, dear Grandpa. I have had a delightful time in the woods this afternoon. Now let us go in to tea. After that I have a fresh newspaper for you."