Thetrainwhistled。Theconductorcamein，smilingnotunkindly。
　　“Well，youngman，whatareyougoingtodo？WestopatRedOakinthreeminutes。“
　　“Yes，thankyou。I’llletyouknow。“Theconductorwentout，andtheboydoubledupwithmisery。Hecouldn’tlethisonechancegolikethis。HefeltforhisbreastpocketandcrackledNils’
　　lettertogivehimcourage。Hedidn’twantNilstobeashamedofhim。Thetrainstopped。Suddenlyherememberedhisbrother’skind，twinklingeyes，thatalwayslookedatyouasiffromfaraway。Thelumpinhisthroatsoftened。“Ah，butNils，Nilswouldunderstand！“hethought。“That’sjustitaboutNils；healwaysunderstands。“
　　Alank，paleboywithacanvastelescopestumbledoffthetraintotheRedOaksiding，justastheconductorcalled，“Allaboard！“
　　ThenextnightMrs。Ericsonwassittingaloneinherwoodenrocking-chaironthefrontporch。LittleHildahadbeensenttobedandhadcriedherselftosleep。Theoldwoman’sknittingwasonherlap，butherhandslaymotionlessontopofit。Formorethananhourshehadnotmovedamuscle。Shesimplysat，asonlytheEricsonsandthemountainscansit。Thehousewasdark，andtherewasnosoundbutthecroakingofthefrogsdowninthepondofthelittlepasture。
　　Ericdidnotcomehomebytheroad，butacrossthefields，wherenoonecouldseehim。Hesethistelescopedownsoftlyinthekitchenshed，andslippednoiselesslyalongthepathtothefrontporch。Hesatdownonthestepwithoutsayinganything。
　　Mrs。Ericsonmadenosign，andthefrogscroakedon。Atlasttheboyspoketimidly。
　　“I’vecomeback，Mother。“
　　“Verywell，“saidMrs。Ericson。
　　Ericleanedoverandpickedupalittlestickoutofthegrass。
　　“Howaboutthemilking？“hefaltered。
　　“That’sbeendone，hoursago。“
　　“Whodidyouget？“
　　“Get？Ididitmyself。Icanmilkasgoodasanyofyou。“
　　Ericslidalongthestepnearertoher。“Oh，Mother，whydidyou？“
　　heaskedsorrowfully。“Whydidn’tyougetoneofOtto’sboys？“
　　“Ididn’twantanybodytoknowIwasinneedofaboy，“saidMrs。Ericsonbitterly。Shelookedstraightinfrontofherandhermouthtightened。“Ialwaysmeanttogiveyouthehomefarm，“sheadded。
　　Theboystaredandslidcloser。“Oh，Mother，“hefaltered，“I
　　don’tcareaboutthefarm。IcamebackbecauseIthoughtyoumightbeneedingme，maybe。“Hehunghisheadandgotnofurther。
　　“Verywell，“saidMrs。Ericson。Herhandwentoutfromhersuddenlyandrestedonhishead。Herfingerstwinedthemselvesinhissoft，palehair。Histearssplasheddownontheboards；
　　happinessfilledhisheart。
　　EndTheTrollGardenFlaviaandHerArtistsAsthetrainnearedTarrytown，ImogenWillardbegantowonderwhyshehadconsentedtobeoneofFlavia’shousepartyatall。Shehadnotfeltenthusiasticaboutitsinceleavingthecity，andwasexperiencingaprolongedebbofpurpose，acurrentofchillingindecision，underwhichshevainlysoughtforthemotivewhichhadinducedhertoacceptFlavia’sinvitation。
　　PerhapsitwasavaguecuriositytoseeFlavia’shusband，whohadbeenthemagicianofherchildhoodandtheheroofinnumerableArabianfairytales。PerhapsitwasadesiretoseeM。Roux，whomFlaviahadannouncedastheespecialattractionoftheoccasion。Perhapsitwasawishtostudythatremarkablewomaninherownsetting。
　　ImogenadmittedamildcuriosityconcerningFlavia。Shewasinthehabitoftakingpeopleratherseriously，butsomehowfounditimpossibletotakeFlaviaso，becauseoftheveryvehemenceandinsistencewithwhichFlaviademandedit。Submergedinherstudies，Imogenhad，oflateyears，seenverylittleofFlavia；
　　butFlavia，inherhurriedvisitstoNewYork，betweenherexcursionsfromstudiotostudio——herluncheonswiththisladywhohadtoplayatamatinee，andherdinnerswiththatsingerwhohadaneveningconcert——hadseenenoughofherfriend’shandsomedaughtertoconceiveforheraninclinationofsuchviolenceandassuranceasonlyFlaviacouldafford。ThefactthatImogenhadshownrathermarkedcapacityincertainesotericlinesofscholarship，andhaddecidedtospecializeinawell-
　　soundingbranchofphilologyattheEcoledesChartes，hadfairlyplacedherinthatcategoryof“interestingpeople“whomFlaviaconsideredhernaturalaffinities，andlawfulprey。
　　WhenImogensteppeduponthestationplatformshewasimmediatelyappropriatedbyherhostess，whosecommandingfigureandassuranceofattireshehadrecognizedfromadistance。ShewashurriedintoahightilburyandFlavia，takingthedriver’scushionbesideher，gatheredupthereinswithanexperiencedhand。
　　“Mydeargirl，“sheremarked，assheturnedthehorsesupthestreet，“Iwasafraidthetrainmightbelate。M。Rouxinsisteduponcomingupbyboatanddidnotarriveuntilafterseven。“
　　“TothinkofM。Roux’sbeinginthispartoftheworldatall，andsubjecttothevicissitudesofriverboats！Whyintheworlddidhecomeover？“queriedImogenwithlivelyinterest。
　　“HeisthesortofmanwhomustdissolveandbecomeashadowoutsideofParis。“
　　“Oh，wehaveahousefulofthemostinterestingpeople，“
　　saidFlavia，professionally。“WehaveactuallymanagedtogetIvanSchemetzkin。HewasillinCaliforniaatthecloseofhisconcerttour，youknow，andheisrecuperatingwithus，afterhiswearingjourneyfromthecoast。ThenthereisJulesMartel，thepainter；SignorDonati，thetenor；ProfessorSchotte，whohasdugupAssyria，youknow；Restzhoff，theRussianchemist；AlceeBuisson，thephilologist；FrankWellington，thenovelist；andWillMaidenwood，theeditorofWoman。Thenthereismysecondcousin，JemimaBroadwood，whomadesuchahitinPinero’scomedylastwinter，andFrauLichtenfeld。Haveyoureadher？“
　　ImogenconfessedherutterignoranceofFrauLichtenfeld，andFlaviawenton。
　　“Well，sheisamostremarkableperson；oneofthoseadvancedGermanwomen，amilitanticonoclast，andthisdrivewillnotbelongenoughtopermitofmytellingyouherhistory。Suchastory！HernovelswerethetalkofallGermanywhenIwastherelast，andseveralofthemhavebeensuppressed——anhonorinGermany，Iunderstand。’AtWhoseDoor’hasbeentranslated。I
　　amsounfortunateasnottoreadGerman。“
　　“I’mallexcitementattheprospectofmeetingMissBroadwood，“saidImogen。“I’veseenherinnearlyeverythingshedoes。Herstagepersonalityisdelightful。Shealwaysremindsmeofanice，clean，pink-and-whiteboywhohasjusthadhiscoldbath，andcomedownallaglowforarunbeforebreakfast。“
　　“Yes，butisn’titunfortunatethatshewilllimitherselftothoseminorcomedypartsthataresolittleappreciatedinthiscountry？Oneoughttobesatisfiedwithnothinglessthanthebest，oughtone？“Thepeculiar，breathytoneinwhichFlaviaalwaysutteredthatword“best，“themostworninhervocabulary，alwaysjarredonImogenandalwaysmadeherobdurate。
　　“Idon’tatallagreewithyou，“shesaidreservedly。“I
　　thoughteveryoneadmittedthatthemostremarkablethingaboutMissBroadwoodisheradmirablesenseoffitness，whichisrareenoughinherprofession。“
　　Flaviacouldnotendurebeingcontradicted；shealwaysseemedtoregarditinthelightofadefeat，andusuallycoloredunbecomingly。Nowshechangedthesubject。
　　“Look，mydear，“shecried，“thereisFrauLichtenfeldnow，comingtomeetus。Doesn’tshelookasifshehadjustescapedoutofValhalla？Sheisactuallyoversixfeet。“
　　Imogensawawomanofimmensestature，inaveryshortskirtandabroad，flappingsunhat，stridingdownthehillsideatalong，swinginggait。TherefugeefromValhallaapproached，panting。Herheavy，Teutonicfeatureswerescarletfromtherigorofherexercise，andherhair，underherflappingsunhat，wastightlybefrizzledaboutherbrow。ShefixedhersharplittleevesuponImogenandextendedbothherhands。
　　“Sothisisthelittlefriend？“shecried，inarollingbaritone。
　　Imogenwasquiteastallasherhostess；buteverything，shereflected，iscomparative。AftertheintroductionFlaviaapologized。
　　“IwishIcouldaskyoutodriveupwithus，FrauLichtenfeld。“
　　“Ah，no！“criedthegiantess，droopingherheadinhumorouscaricatureofatime-honoredposeoftheheroinesofsentimentalromances。“Ithasneverbeenmyfatetobefittedintocorners。
　　Ihaveneverknownthesweetprivilegesofthetiny。“
　　Laughing，Flaviastartedtheponies，andthecolossalwoman，standinginthemiddleofthedustyroad，tookoffherwidehatandwavedthemafarewellwhich，inscopeofgesture，recalledthesaluteofaplumedcavalier。
　　Whentheyarrivedatthehouse，Imogenlookedaboutherwithkeencuriosity，forthiswasveritablytheworkofFlavia’shands，thematerializationofhopeslongdeferred。Theypasseddirectlyintoalarge，squarehallwithagalleryonthreesides，studiofashion。ThisopenedatoneendintoaDutchbreakfastroom，beyondwhichwasthelargediningroom。Attheotherendofthehallwasthemusicroom。Therewasasmokingroom，whichoneenteredthroughthelibrarybehindthestaircase。Onthesecondfloortherewasthesamegeneralarrangement:asquarehall，and，openingfromit，theguestchambers，or，asMissBroadwoodtermedthem，the“cages。“