I thought I saw the Vedders exchanging significant glances.

A number of merry young people tumbled out, and an especially pretty girl of about twenty came running through the garden.
"Mother," she exclaimed, "you MUST come with us!" "I can't, I can't," said Mrs.Vedder, "the roses MUST be pruned--and see! The azaleas are coming into bloom." With that she presented me to her daughter.
And, then, shortly, for it could no longer be concealed, I learned that Mr.and Mrs.Vedder were not the caretakers but the owners of the estate and of the great house I had seen on the hill.

That evening, with an air almost of apology, they explained to me how it all came about.
"We first came out here," said Mrs.Vedder, "nearly twenty years ago, and built the big house on the hill.

But the more we came to know of country life the more we wanted to get down into it.

We found it impossible up there--so many unnecessary things to see to and care for--and we couldn't--we didn't see--" "The fact is," Mr.Vedder put in, "we were losing touch with each other." "There is nothing like a big house," said Mrs.Vedder, "to separate a man and his wife." "So we came down here," said Mr.Vedder, "built this little cottage, and developed this garden mostly with our own hands.