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Now he flew off down the county road at a speed that made passers turn; but he saw no one. He neither slackened nor looked back till he found himself at the river where the little island rose, flower-crowned. The poppies were fewer; and where a month before the flame-flower had triumphed, to-day wild roses perfumed the air.,Now he crept through the brush by the roadside till he came close under the west wall. The setting sun blazed red fire at him from the windows, reminding him sharply of the hour.,“Oh, no; she must be Jean.”,“There isn’t any Maskey’s any more,” May Nell mourned; “just ashes and old irons where used to be such oceans of goodies in such beautiful boxes and dishes.”,“Here, you poor darling, take mine! And don’t be afraid—you’ll find your mother before long.” Edith’s words were brave, but her own eyes were moist.,As he reached for his cap a door opposite the one through which he had passed opened, and the grey head of the sexton appeared.,“My clothes mostly,” he replied, hoping he had told the truth, though a dreadful, big feeling in his head, the humming in his ears, and the pain in his eyes, made him guess he had told a lie.,At the close of the act, in the far, high distance, the Goddess, Flora, appeared on a hill-crest. This was Edith herself, arrayed in a filmy gown of pale green, garlanded with snow-drops and buttercups. High, far, and faint came her song of the dawn of Spring. But the gnomes and the elves, Storm, Wind, Frost, and Rain, roared and howled; and Flora, affrighted, fled from view.,In his overcoat Mr. Zalhambra seemed to fill the doorway as Mrs. Newman greeted him. A moment’s private talk and the hostess understood the situation. From the drawing-room a ripple of childish laughter reached their ears.,But on the whole Billy was proud. “The kids showed their pluck and stuck to their jobs,” he told his mother afterward. The White Elephant bellowed impressively in front of the postoffice; and Jimmy’s ponies never reared so gracefully as in front of the bank.,THE day was fine. Billy, not long released from his green shade, wondered if the world was ever so lovely before; the flowers so sweet, the birds so joyous. Could it be only a few short weeks since that gray Sunday? Billy’s confinement had quickened him, introduced him to himself; now he looked on life with wider eyes, with a more understanding heart.,“Gosh! Wisht Betty was here right this minute. Mebbe I’m dyin’. Hope nobody starts twangin’ a harp. My nose is worser’n ever!”.