From one of the Scotch firs over there, the graceful blossoms of the hop-plant droop prettily.

And beyond them on the hillside, far, far away, she can see mushrooms gleaming in the fields, for all the world like little sheep dotted here and there.

She laughs to herself as she notes the resemblance.

And all is hers--all.

And she is in her own home, and happy.
What a blessing she hadn't said "No" when Maurice asked her.