It was a lovely spot, for the limpid waters reflected grassy banks sprinkled here and there with the wild violet, and shaded by beautiful trees.

A gentle breeze just ruffled the glassy surface of the pond, and rustic seats invited to rest.  It seemed just the place and time for a reverie, and Elsie, with scarce a glance about her, sat down to that enjoyment.  It was only of late that she had formed the habit, but it was growing upon her.

She sat for some time buried in thought, her cheek upon her hand, her eyes upon the ground, and smiles and blushes chasing each other over the fair sweet face.

The dip of an oar, followed instantly by a discordant laugh and a shrill voice asking, “What are you sittin’ there for so still and quiet?  Wouldn’t you like to get in here with me!” caused her to start and spring to her feet with a cry of dismay.

About an hour before a little, oddly dressed woman, with grey hair hanging over her shoulders, a large doll in one arm and a sun umbrella in the other hand, might have been seen stealing along the road that led from Roselands to Ion, keeping close to the hedge that separated it from the fields, and now and then glancing over her shoulder as if fearing or expecting pursuit.

She kept up a constant gabble, now talking to herself, now to the doll, hugging and kissing it with a great show of affection.

“Got away safe this time, didn’t we, Grizzy?  And we’re not going back in a hurry, are we, dear?  We’ve had enough of being penned up in that old house this ever so long; and now we’ll have a day in the woods, a picnic all to ourselves.  Hark! what was that? did I hear wheels?” pausing a moment to listen.  “No, they haven’t found us out yet, Grizzy, so we’ll walk on.”

Reaching the gate leading into the avenue at Ion, she stood a moment peering in between the bars.

“Seems to me I’ve been here before; must have been a good while ago.  Guess I won’t go up to the house; they might catch me and send me back.  But let us go in, Griselda, and look about.  Yonder’s a garden full of flowers.  We’ll pick what we want and nobody’ll know it.”

Putting down her umbrella and pushing the gate open just far enough to enable her to slip through, she stole cautiously in, crossed the avenue and the lawn, and entered the garden unobserved.

She wandered here and there about it, plucking remorselessly whatever seized her fancy, till she had an immense bouquet of the choicest blossoms.

At length leaving the garden she made a circuit through the shrubbery, and finally came out upon the shore of the little lake.

“Oh, this is nice!” she said.  “Did I ever see this before?  It’s cool and shady here; we’ll sit down and rest ourselves under one of these trees, Grizzy.”  Then catching sight of a pretty row-boat, moored to the shore, “No, we’ll jump into this boat and take a ride!” and springing nimbly in, she laid the doll down on one of the seats, the bouquet beside it, saying, “I’m tired carrying you, Griselda, so you just lie there and rest,” then quickly loosing the little craft from its moorings, and taking up the oars, pushed off into the deep water.