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Katharine's Yesterday by Grace Livingston Hill

Katharine Bowman stood at the front gate of her father's house, looking drearily down the road at nothing in particular. The air was crisp and clear, and the sun shine of the early morning was making everything dance and sparkle. All the brilliant red leaves, with their dew-covered faces, came fluttering down with a frosty air. They clanked and clattered against one another, as if to pretend that fall was well on its way and winter would soon be here. Nothing could have looked more enticing that October morning; the air, the sunshine, the leaves, and the very grass seemed full of delightful possibilities. Katharine saw them all: the little whirls of white dust down the road; the purple and blue mists on the distant hills at the end of the street; the big hill, or "mountain" as it was called, which loomed up before her just across the meadows. She had climbed it in company with a party of young-people only a few days before. A little brisk black-and-tan dog moved along the sidewalk in a lively manner, and the cheerful little sparrows that hopped in the road did not care whether winter came or not, but none of them gave Katharine any pleasure or sense of joy.

The truth was...

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