Page:Pratt portraits - sketched in a New England suburb (IA prattportraitssk00full).pdf/147

 a house as any lady hereabouts, and lots of flowers in her garden. I s'pose she likes flowers. Seems as though a girl like her must feel sort of at home among them. I guess I'll send her a bunch next time I go home." He looked again at the apple-trees, whose blossoming branches hung over' the stone wall on either side of the road.

"I'd like to send her a lot of apple-blossoms now," he thought, "but I s'pose that wouldn't be much of a compliment; they're so plenty. They do look just like her though."

A stray petal floated through the still air and dropped upon his knee. He picked it up and regarded it thoughtfully.

"Pity so many of them come to nothing," he mused. "I wonder why things should be wasted so."

He often thought of the fragile waif, in after years, when he remembered that day of blossoming of all sweet things in his own thoughts.

Dr. Bennett stopped his horse before a barelooking house, dropped the weight on the ground with a professional air, and taking his medicine case from the buggy, walked up the path. It was with difficulty that he pulled himself together, and got himself back to real life. On the threshold he paused a moment and looked lingeringly upon the pleasant landscape, as though some subtle premonition had told him that he was turning his back for ever upon a