The pastor’s home was a pretty little white cottage, with green blinds, nestled among the trees from which it took its name. A piazza ran all around it. In summer, vines were trained to run above the window of the cottage and around the post of the piazza—and whole parterres of white lilies (Emily’s favorite flower) filled the air with fragrance. Just at this season the scene was rather bleak. The surrounding trees and overhanging vines but added by the nakedness of their branches to the dreariness of the aspect. The cottage was of one story—consisting of a middle building with two wings. In the middle part, first was an entry parallel with the front of the house. At each end of this entry was a door leading into the little wings, each of which contained a bed-chamber. These chambers had each a large bow window fronting on the piazza. The left hand room was occupied by the pastor and his wife, and the right hand one was fitted up for the reception of Sophie Churchill and her little charge. Behind each of these chambers was a little closet—that communicating with Emily’s room was occupied by her son; that opening from the room prepared for Sophie, was assigned to the use of their only domestic, a mulatto girl. The centre building contained, first in front a parlor, back of that a dining-room, then a kitchen. Behind the house was a vegetable garden, and a poultry yard—and still further behind an orchard of various fruits. In front of the cottage was a flower yard, and a grape walk extended from the front of the piazza quite down to the gate. Bee-hives were standing under the locust trees that were scattered over the lawn.