He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. He bowed awkwardly to Mrs. "Old Van told me if he grew up he would be hanged. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters.
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