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。“
