The year divided itself and got its painted leaves, its white silences, its rounding buds, and its warm fragrances from the winds of heaven, and so there were four seasons in Sparta, and people talked of an early spring or a late fall; but Elfrida told herself that time had no other division, and the days no other color.

Elfrida seemed to be unaware of the opening of the new South Ward Episcopal Methodist Church.

She overlooked the municipal elections too, the plan for overhauling the town waterworks, and the reorganization of the public library.

She even forgot the Browning Club.
Whereas--though Elfrida would never have said "whereas" -- the days in Philadelphia had been long and full.

She had often lived a week in one of them, and there had been hours that stretched themselves over an infinity of life and feeling, as Elfrida saw it, looking back.