The air was filled with the faint cool smell of ferns, and on every side were great masses of them,--clumps of splendid ostrich-ferns, waving their green plumes in stately pride; miniature forests of the graceful brake, beneath whose feathery branches the wood-mouse and other tiny forest-creatures roamed secure; and in the very road-way, trampled under old Nancy's feet, delicate lady-fern, and sturdy hart's-tongue, and a dozen other varieties, all perfect in grace and sylvan beauty.

Hilda was conscious of a vague delight, through all her fatigue and distress How beautiful it was; how cool and green and restful! If she must stay in the country, why could it not be always in the woods, where there was no noise, nor dust, nor confusion?
Her revery was broken in upon by Dame Hartley's voice crying cheerily,-- "And here we are, out of the woods at last! Cheer up, my pretty, and let me show you the first sight of the farm.

It's a pleasant, heartsome place, to my thinking." The trees opened left and right, stepping back and courtesying, like true gentlefolks as they are, with delicate leaf-draperies drooping low.
The sun shone bright and hot on a bit of hard, glaring yellow road, and touched more quietly the roofs and chimneys of an old yellow farm-house standing at some distance from the road, with green rolling meadows on every side, and a great clump of trees mounting guard behind it.

A low stone wall, with wild-roses nodding over it, ran along the roadside for some way, and midway in it was a trim, yellow-painted gate, which stood invitingly open, showing a neat drive-way, shaded on either side by graceful drooping elms.

Old Nancy pricked up her ears and quickened her pace into a very respectable trot, as if she already smelt her oats.
Dame Hartley shook her own comfortable shoulders and gave a little sigh of relief, for she too was tired, and glad to get home.