So was the matter discussed and summed up, the same evening after dinner, at the vicarage.
Betty found old Mrs.Welden's cottage.

It was in a green lane, turning from the village street--which was almost a green lane itself.

A tiny hedged-in front garden was before the cottage door.

A crazy-looking wicket gate was in the hedge, and a fuschia bush and a few old roses were in the few yards of garden.

There were actually two or three geraniums in the window, showing cheerful scarlet between the short, white dimity curtains.
"A house this size and of this poverty in an American village," was Betty's thought, "would be a bare and straggling hideousness, with old tomato cans in the front yard.