She lived alone and in her secluded woodland home led
a quiet and happy life; she was never idle, but always doing for others.
Few really understood her, but she was not only a marvel of truth but
possessed original thought, in days when so little time was given in our
country to anything save the struggle for a living. It is only a few
years since Aunt Hildy was laid away from our sight. I often think of
her now, and I have in my possession the statuette Hal made, which shows
camlet cloak, herb-bags and all. I desire you to know her somewhat,
since her visits were frequent and our plans were all known to her.
CHAPTER VII.
WILMUR BENTON.
The fall is a busy time in a farmer's household--with the gathering of
grain, clearing up of fields, and making all due preparations for the
coming winter; and it is beautiful also. This year, however, the many
colored leaves had sought the ground unnoticed by me; for my days had
been absorbed in thought and, instead of looking at things about me, if
I had a spare moment I wandered in the realms of feeling.
November had come to us with Louis' departure, and the weeks between his
coming and going seemed, as I looked back, like a few hours only,
crowded together as a day before me with the strange events, and
stranger thoughts, whose existence from that time onward has forced me
to own their supremacy and power. Hal's artist friend, Professor Benton,
was coming to see him--and I wished it were May instead of November, for
it seemed to me the outer attractions of our country home were much
greater than the inner, and I could not see how he was to be
entertained.
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