I used to sit and fancy myself going aboard on one of them and setting off for strange parts.  I wasn’t looking to settle down here in Winton all my days; but I reckon, maybe, it’s just’s well—­anyhow, when I got the freedom to travel, I’d got out of the notion of it—­and perhaps, there’s no telling, I might have been terribly disappointed.  And there ain’t any hindrance ’gainst my setting off—­in my own mind—­every time I sits here and watches a tow go down the lake.  I’ve seen a heap of big churches in my travels—­it’s mostly easier ’magining about them—­churches are pretty much alike I reckon, though I ain’t seen many, I’ll admit.”

No one answered for a moment, but Jane,
used to Tobias for a listener, did not mind. 
Then in the darkness, Hilary laid a hand
softly over the work-worn ones clasped on
Jane’s lap.  It was hard to imagine Jane
young and full of youthful fancies and
longings; yet years ago there had been a Jane—­not
Sextoness Jane then—­who had found
Winton dull and dreary and had longed to get
away.  But for her, there had been no one to
wave the magic wand, that should transform
the little Vermont village into a place filled
with new and unexplored charms.  Never in
all Jane’s many summers, had she known one
like this summer of theirs; and for them—­the
wonder was by no means over—­the years
ahead were bright with untold possibilities. 
Hilary sighed for very happiness, wondering
if she were the same girl who had rocked
listlessly in the hammock that June morning,
protesting that she didn’t care for “half-way” things.

“Tired?” Pauline asked.

“I was thinking,” her sister answered.

“Well, the tow’s gone.”  Jane got up to go.

“I’m ever so glad we came, thank you so
much, Jane,” Pauline said heartily.

“I wonder what’ll have happened by the time we all see our next tow go down,” Josie said, as they started towards home.

“We may see a good many more than one
before the general exodus,” her brother answered.

“But we won’t have time to come watch for them.  Oh, Paul, just think, only a little while now—­”

Tom slipped into step with Hilary, a little behind the others.  “I never supposed the old soul had it in her,” he said, glancing to where Jane trudged heavily on ahead.  “Still, I suppose she was young—­once; though I’ve never thought of her being so before.”

“Yes,” Hilary said.  “I wonder,—­maybe, she’s been better off, after all, right, here at home.  She wouldn’t have got to be Sextoness Jane anywhere else, probably.”

Tom glanced at her quickly.  “Is there a
hidden meaning—­subject to be carefully avoided?”

Hilary laughed.  “As you like.”

“So you and Paul are off on your travels, too?”

“Yes, though I can hardly believe it yet.”

“And just as glad to go as any of us.”