It is June, and you may smell the roses as soon as you get to the entrance of the valley. Wych Hazel's dream has been realized. The valley is a garden of roses. They climb the walls of the cottages, they cluster on the palings, they stand by the way side. They are set in a ground of smoothest green; for the turf everywhere is perfectly cared for as if the valley were a park; smooth and rich and luxuriant, it carpets the whole valley, except only where the footpaths run and where the houses and gardens stand. The houses nowhere stand close together; there is plenty of garden room; and maples and oaks and American elms especially shade the valley deliciously. In another ten years they will be very fine. The place is as full of business as of roses, and as full of prosperity as of either. You see that at every step. Not a house but is in perfect repair and in perfect condition; the low white paling fences glitter in their purity; the window are bright and clear. And meet whom you will, man, woman or child, no rags or penury or squalor will offend you; but the look is of respectable comfort and real and hopeful life. And why not? See that substantial stone building a little way up the slope of the valley side; that is the Library. There are reading rooms, for evening use, and well used by the hands. They have a variety of papers and magazines and maps; and the stock of books and pictures is large and excellent. Adjoining is the coffee room, where refreshments of a simple kind are always to be had. There is a reading room for the women and one for the men; large, lofty, airy, well lighted, beautiful rooms, with every comfort of tables and chairs and desks, for writing and reading. On the other side of the valley, nearly opposite, is another large and sightly edifice. It is the store. Everything the villagers need is to be had there, at little over wholesale prices; it costs the owner nothing, it saves the people a vast deal. Nobody can purchase goods there except the hands and employees of Mill Hollow. There is no place for the sale of liquor in all the village. You see the two churches; one would not accommodate the population. For Mr. Rollo has not ruined himself; on the contrary his business has grown and spread and increased. He is a richer man to-day than ten years before. That is, his income is larger; his reserve capital never will be. Let us go up out of the valley by one of these gentle and well-trodden ways.