She had come from Overton Hall with Anne and Miriam late that afternoon and the three girls had lingered on the steps of Wayne Hall, reluctant to go indoors.
Spring was getting ready to fulfill all sorts of tender promises she had made to her children.

The buds on the trees were bursting into tiny new green leaves.

The crocuses were in bloom in the yards along College Street, and the grass on the campus was growing greener every hour.

The roads, too, were obligingly drying, so that adventurous walkers might visit their favorite haunts in the country surrounding Overton without running the risk of wading in the mud.
There was Guest House, the famous colonial tea shop that had been built and used as an inn during the Revolution.

In this quaint historic place ample refreshment was to be found.