II-VIII

The Harling children and I were never hap-
pier, never felt more contented and secure,
than in the weeks of spring which broke that
long winter. We were out all day in the thin
sunshine, helping Mrs. Harling and Tony
break the ground and plant the garden, dig
around the orchard trees, tie up vines and
clip the hedges. Every morning, before I was
up, I could hear Tony singing in the garden
rows. After the apple and cherry trees broke
into bloom, we ran about under them, hunting
for the new nests the birds were building,
throwing clods at each other, and playing hide-
and-seek with Nina. Yet the summer which
was to change everything was coming nearer
every day. When boys and girls are growing
up, life can't stand still, not even in the quiet-
est of country towns; and they have to grow
up, whether they will or no. That is what
their elders are always forgetting.

It must have been in June, for Mrs. Harling
and Antonia were preserving cherries, when I
stopped one morning to tell them that a danc-
ing pavilion had come to town. I had seen

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v?