Outside the snow fell softly ; he knew that it was wrapping that new-made grave on the cold , fir-sentinelled hillside with a stainless shroud of infinite purity and peace . Miss Cordelia 's Accommodation `` Poor little creatures ! '' said Miss Cordelia compassionately . She meant the factory children . In her car ride from the school where she taught to the bridge that spanned the river between Pottstown , the sooty little manufacturing village on one side , and Point Pleasant , which was merely a hamlet , on the other , she had seen dozens of them , playing and quarrelling on the streets or peering wistfully out of dingy tenement windows . `` Tomorrow is Saturday , '' she reflected , `` and they 've no better place to play in than the back streets and yards . It 's a shame . There 's work for our philanthropists here , but they do n't seem to see it . Well , I 'm so sorry for them it hurts me to look at them , but I ca n't do anything . '' Miss Cordelia sighed and then brightened up , because she realized that she was turning her back upon Pottstown for two blissful days and going to Point Pleasant , which had just one straggling , elm-shaded street hedging on old-fashioned gardens and cosy little houses and trailing off into the real country in a half-hour 's walk . Miss Cordelia lived alone in a tiny house at Point Pleasant . It was so tiny that you would have wondered how anyone could live in it . `` But it 's plenty big for a little old maid like me , '' Miss Cordelia would have told you . `` And it 's my own -- I 'm queen there . There 's solid comfort in having one spot for your own self . To be sure , if I had less land and more house it would be better . '' Miss Cordelia always laughed here . It was one of her jokes . There was a four-acre field behind the house . Both had been left to her by an uncle .
The field was XXXXX no use to Miss Cordelia ; she did n't keep a cow and she had n't time to make a garden .
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