In these days when Anna Prince was young and had lately come to live
in the doctor's square house, with the three peaked windows in the
roof, and the tall box borders and lilac bushes in its neat front
yard, Oldfields was just beginning to wake from a fifty years'
architectural sleep, and rub its eyes, and see what was thought about
a smart little house with a sharp gabled roof, and much scalloping of
its edges, which a new store-keeper had seen fit to build. There was
one long street which had plenty of room on either side for most of
the houses, and where it divided, each side of the First Parish
Church, it became the East road and the West road, and the rest of the
dwellings strayed off somewhat undecidedly toward the world beyond.
There were a good many poplars in the front yards, though their former
proud ranks were broken in many places, so that surviving veterans
stood on guard irregularly before the houses, where usually one or two
members of the once busy households were also left alone. Many of the
people who lived in the village had outlying land and were farmers of
it, but beside the doctor's there were some other households which the
land supported indirectly, either through professions or because some
kind ancestor had laid by enough money for his children and
grandchildren. The ministers were both excellent men; but Dr. Leslie
was the only man who looked far ahead or saw much or cared much for
true success. In Titian's great Venetian picture of the Presentation
of the Virgin, while the little maiden goes soberly up the steps of
the temple, in the busy crowd beneath only one man is possessed by the
thought that something wonderful is happening, and lifts his head,
forgetting the buyers and sellers and gossipers, as his eyes follow
the sacred sight.
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