One mild May evening Caroline, passing near about moonrise, and feeling, though weary, unwilling yet to go home, where there was only the bed of thorns and the night of grief to anticipate, sat down on the mossy ground near the gate, and gazed through towards cedar and mansion. 
One mild May evening Caroline, passing near about moonrise, and unwilling yet to go home, sat down on the mossy ground near the gate of Fieldhead, and gazed through it towards the cedar and the mansion. 