Even the horns were easing into the concept and the woodwinds in the second movement were particularly well-orchestrated. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. Presently. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. No, don’t let me call myself that.
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