"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly. "'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er ain't mine!" "You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy. It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel ground belonged to the owner of the ground. "But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum tree.'" "I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs to Stoke Revel." "Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?" "No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I should have to do it in many others." There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up. "When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly. Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit." "Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree blossoms 'ul be over by that time." "I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in whose heart there was room for no sentiment. "'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly from her chair and looked around the cottage. "I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable, Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon." Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.