The night was very calm and still . Not a breath of wind stirred . The moonshine was the brightest I had ever seen . In the middle of the garden , where the shadow of the poplars did not fall , it was almost as bright as day . One could have read fine print . There was still a little rose glow in the west , and over the airy boughs of the tall poplars one or two large , bright stars were shining . The air was sweet with a hush of dreams , and the world was so lovely that I held my breath over its beauty . Then , all at once , down at the far end of the garden , I saw a woman walking . I thought at first that it must be Mary Sloane ; but , as she crossed a moonlit path , I saw it was not our old servant 's stout , homely figure . This woman was tall and erect . Although no suspicion of the truth came to me , something about her reminded me of Hester . Even so had Hester liked to wander about the garden in the twilight . I had seen her thus a thousand times . I wondered who the woman could be . Some neighbor , of course . But what a strange way for her to come ! She walked up the garden slowly in the poplar shade . Now and then she stooped , as if to caress a flower , but she plucked none . Half way up she out in to the moonlight and walked across the plot of grass in the center of the garden . My heart gave a great throb and I stood up .
She was quite near to me now -- and I saw XXXXX it was Hester .
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