“He’s taken about on a wheeled chair or cot. He is too restless to stay in any place very long. He seems more contented outdoors, where he can watch—” She broke off abruptly. “Lovely morning—isn’t it? Good-by.”
She turned about and went up the drive again. Patsy watched her go, a strange, brooding look in her eyes. “So—he likes to be out of doors best—where he can be watching. And if a body chanced to trespass that way—she might come upon him, sudden like, and stay long enough to set him a-thinking. Would it be too late, now, I wonder?”
She resumed her way—and her memories. She passed a half-dozen more driveways and she climbed a hill; and when she came to the top she found herself looking down on a thickly wooded hamlet. Spires and gabled roofs broke the foliage here and there, and on the rising slope beyond towered a veritable forest. Patsy stood on the brink of the hill and gazed down long and thoughtfully; at last she flung out her arms in an impetuous gesture of confirmation, while the old, whimsical smile crept into her lips.
“‘Aye, now am I in Arden, the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place—but travelers must be content.’” And taking a firm grip of her memories, her wits, and her courage, she went down the hill.
XIV
ENTER KING MIDAS
When Patsy at last reached Arden she went direct to the post-office and was there confronted by a huge poster occupying an entire wall: