Anne's House of Dreams....................................................................................................................................1

Lucy Maud Montgomery.........................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER 1. IN THE GARRET OF GREEN GABLES.......................................................................2

CHAPTER 2. THE HOUSE OF DREAMS............................................................................................4

CHAPTER 3. THE LAND OF DREAMS AMONG ...............................................................................7

CHAPTER 4. THE FIRST BRIDE OF GREEN GABLES ...................................................................12

CHAPTER 5. THE HOME COMING ...................................................................................................13

CHAPTER 6. CAPTAIN JIM...............................................................................................................15

CHAPTER 7. THE SCHOOLMASTER'S BRIDE...............................................................................18

CHAPTER 8. MISS CORNELIA BRYANT COMES TO CALL ........................................................23

CHAPTER 9. AN EVENING AT FOUR WINDS POINT ...................................................................30

CHAPTER 10. LESLIE MOORE.........................................................................................................35

CHAPTER 11. THE STORY OF LESLIE MOORE............................................................................40

CHAPTER 12. LESLIE COMES OVER..............................................................................................45

CHAPTER 13. A GHOSTLY EVENING .............................................................................................46

CHAPTER 14. NOVEMBER DAYS ....................................................................................................48

CHAPTER 15. CHRISTMAS AT FOUR WINDS...............................................................................50

CHAPTER 16. NEW YEAR'S EVE AT THE LIGHT.........................................................................54

CHAPTER 17. A FOUR WINDS WINTER.........................................................................................57

CHAPTER 18. SPRING DAYS............................................................................................................60

CHAPTER 19. DAWN AND DUSK....................................................................................................64

CHAPTER 20. LOST MARGARET .....................................................................................................67

CHAPTER 21. BARRIERS SWEPT AWAY.......................................................................................68

CHAPTER 22. MISS CORNELIA ARRANGES MATTERS.............................................................72

CHAPTER 23. OWEN FORD COMES ................................................................................................75

CHAPTER 24. THE LIFEBOOK OF CAPTAIN JIM ........................................................................78

CHAPTER 25. THE WRITING OF THE BOOK .................................................................................81

CHAPTER 26. OWEN FORD'S CONFESSION..................................................................................83

CHAPTER 27. ON THE SAND BAR ...................................................................................................86

CHAPTER 28. ODDS AND ENDS......................................................................................................89

CHAPTER 29. GILBERT AND ANNE DISAGREE ...........................................................................92

CHAPTER 30. LESLIE DECIDES.......................................................................................................96

CHAPTER 31. THE TRUTH MAKES FREE....................................................................................100

CHAPTER 32. MISS CORNELIA DISCUSSES THE AFFAIR ........................................................102

CHAPTER 33. LESLIE RETURNS ....................................................................................................104

CHAPTER 34. THE SHIP O'DREAMS COMES TO HARBOR .......................................................106

CHAPTER 35. POLITICS AT FOUR WINDS ...................................................................................109

CHAPTER 36. BEAUTY FOR ASHES ..............................................................................................112

CHAPTER 37. MISS CORNELIA MAKES A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT ........................116

CHAPTER 38. RED ROSES ...............................................................................................................119

CHAPTER 39. CAPTAIN JIM CROSSES THE BAR.......................................................................122

CHAPTER 40. FAREWELL TO THE HOUSE OF DREAMS ..........................................................124

"Thanks be, I'm done with geometry, learning or teaching it," said Anne Shirley, a trifle vindictively, as she

thumped a somewhat battered volume of Euclid into a big chest of books, banged the lid in triumph, and sat

down upon it, looking at Diana Wright across the Green Gables garret, with gray eyes that were like a

The garret was a shadowy, suggestive, delightful place, as all garrets should be. Through the open window,

by which Anne sat, blew the sweet, scented, sunwarm air of the August afternoon; outside, poplar boughs

rustled and tossed in the wind; beyond them were the woods, where Lover's Lane wound its enchanted path,

and the old apple orchard which still bore its rosy harvests munificently. And, over all, was a great mountain

range of snowy clouds in the blue southern sky. Through the other window was glimpsed a distant,

whitecapped, blue seathe beautiful St. Lawrence Gulf, on which floats, like a jewel, Abegweit, whose

softer, sweeter Indian name has long been forsaken for the more prosaic one of Prince Edward Island.

Diana Wright, three years older than when we last saw her, had grown somewhat matronly in the intervening

time. But her eyes were as black and brilliant, her cheeks as rosy, and her dimples as enchanting, as in the

longago days when she and Anne Shirley had vowed eternal friendship in the garden at Orchard Slope. In

her arms she held a small, sleeping, blackcurled creature, who for two happy years had been known to the

world of Avonlea as "Small Anne Cordelia." Avonlea folks knew why Diana had called her Anne, of course,

but Avonlea folks were puzzled by the Cordelia. There had never been a Cordelia in the Wright or Barry

connections. Mrs. Harmon Andrews said she supposed Diana had found the name in some trashy novel, and

wondered that Fred hadn't more sense than to allow it. But Diana and Anne smiled at each other. They knew

"You always hated geometry," said Diana with a retrospective smile. "I should think you'd be real glad to be

"Oh, I've always liked teaching, apart from geometry. These past three years in Summerside have been very

pleasant ones. Mrs. Harmon Andrews told me when I came home that I wouldn't likely find married life as

much better than teaching as I expected. Evidently Mrs. Harmon is of Hamlet's opinion that it may be better

Anne's laugh, as blithe and irresistible as of yore, with an added note of sweetness and maturity, rang through

the garret. Marilla in the kitchen below, compounding blue plum preserve, heard it and smiled; then sighed to

think how seldom that dear laugh would echo through Green Gables in the years to come. Nothing in her life

had ever given Marilla so much happiness as the knowledge that Anne was going to marry Gilbert Blythe;

but every joy must bring with it its little shadow of sorrow. During the three Summerside years Anne had

been home often for vacations and weekends; but, after this, a biannual visit would be as much as could be

"You needn't let what Mrs. Harmon says worry you," said Diana, with the calm assurance of the fouryears

matron. "Married life has its ups and downs, of course. You mustn't expect that everything will always go

smoothly. But I can assure you, Anne, that it's a happy life, when you're married to the right man."

Anne smothered a smile. Diana's airs of vast experience always amused her a little.

"I daresay I'll be putting them on too, when I've been married four years," she thought. "Surely my sense of

"Is it settled yet where you are going to live?" asked Diana, cuddling Small Anne Cordelia with the inimitable

gesture of motherhood which always sent through Anne's heart, filled with sweet, unuttered dreams and

"Yes. That was what I wanted to tell you when I 'phoned to you to come down today. By the way, I can't

realize that we really have telephones in Avonlea now. It sounds so preposterously uptodate and

"We can thank the A. V. I. S. for them," said Diana. "We should never have got the line if they hadn't taken

the matter up and carried it through. There was enough cold water thrown to discourage any society. But they

stuck to it, nevertheless. You did a splendid thing for Avonlea when you founded that society, Anne. What

fun we did have at our meetings! Will you ever forget the blue hall and Judson Parker's scheme for painting

"I don't know that I'm wholly grateful to the A. V. I. S. in the matter of the telephone," said Anne. "Oh, I

know it's most convenient even more so than our old device of signalling to each other by flashes of

candlelight! And, as Mrs. Rachel says, `Avonlea must keep up with the procession, that's what.' But somehow

I feel as if I didn't want Avonlea spoiled by what Mr. Harrison, when he wants to be witty, calls `modern

inconveniences.' I should like to have it kept always just as it was in the dear old years. That's foolishand

sentimentaland impossible. So I shall immediately become wise and practical and possible. The telephone,

as Mr. Harrison concedes, is `a buster of a good thing'even if you do know that probably half a dozen

"That's the worst of it," sighed Diana. "It's so annoying to hear the receivers going down whenever you ring

anyone up. They say Mrs. Harmon Andrews insisted that their `phone should be put in their kitchen just so

that she could listen whenever it rang and keep an eye on the dinner at the same time. Today, when you called

me, I distinctly heard that queer clock of the Pyes' striking. So no doubt Josie or Gertie was listening."

"Oh, so that is why you said, `You've got a new clock at Green Gables, haven't you?' I couldn't imagine what

you meant. I heard a vicious click as soon as you had spoken. I suppose it was the Pye receiver being hung up

with profane energy. Well, never mind the Pyes. As Mrs. Rachel says, `Pyes they always were and Pyes they

always will be, world without end, amen.' I want to talk of pleasanter things. It's all settled as to where my

"Nooo, that's the drawback. Gilbert is going to settle at Four Winds Harborsixty miles from here."

"Sixty! It might as well be six hundred," sighed Diana. "I never can get further from home now than

"You'll have to come to Four Winds. It's the most beautiful harbor on the Island. There's a little village called

Glen St. Mary at its head, and Dr. David Blythe has been practicing there for fifty years. He is Gilbert's

greatuncle, you know. He is going to retire, and Gilbert is to take over his practice. Dr. Blythe is going to

keep his house, though, so we shall have to find a habitation for ourselves. I don't know yet what it is, or

where it will be in reality, but I have a little house o'dreams all furnished in my imaginationa tiny,

"Nowhere. Don't look horrified, Diana dearest. You suggest Mrs. Harmon Andrews. She, no doubt, will

remark condescendingly that people who can't afford wedding `towers' are real sensible not to take them; and

then she'll remind me that Jane went to Europe for hers. I want to spend MY honeymoon at Four Winds in

"There isn't any one to have. You and Phil and Priscilla and Jane all stole a march on me in the matter of

marriage; and Stella is teaching in Vancouver. I have no other `kindred soul' and I won't have a bridesmaid

"Yes, indeedy. I shouldn't feel like a bride without one. I remember telling Matthew, that evening when he

brought me to Green Gables, that I never expected to be a bride because I was so homely no one would ever

want to marry meunless some foreign missionary did. I had an idea then that foreign missionaries couldn't

afford to be finicky in the matter of looks if they wanted a girl to risk her life among cannibals. You should

have seen the foreign missionary Priscilla married. He was as handsome and inscrutable as those daydreams

we once planned to marry ourselves, Diana; he was the best dressed man I ever met, and he raved over

Priscilla's `ethereal, golden beauty.' But of course there are no cannibals in Japan."

"Your wedding dress is a dream, anyhow," sighed Diana rapturously. "You'll look like a perfect queen in

ityou're so tall and slender. How DO you keep so slim, Anne? I'm fatter than everI'll soon have no waist

"Stoutness and slimness seem to be matters of predestination," said Anne. "At all events, Mrs. Harmon

Andrews can't say to you what she said to me when I came home from Summerside, `Well, Anne, you're just

about as skinny as ever.' It sounds quite romantic to be `slender,' but `skinny' has a very different tang."

"Mrs. Harmon has been talking about your trousseau. She admits it's as nice as Jane's, although she says Jane

married a millionaire and you are only marrying a `poor young doctor without a cent to his name.'"

"My dresses ARE nice. I love pretty things. I remember the first pretty dress I ever hadthe brown gloria

Matthew gave me for our school concert. Before that everything I had was so ugly. It seemed to me that I

"That was the night Gilbert recited `Bingen on the Rhine,' and looked at you when he said, `There's another,

NOT a sister.' And you were so furious because he put your pink tissue rose in his breast pocket! You didn't

"Oh, well, that's another instance of predestination," laughed Anne, as they went down the garret stairs.

There was more excitement in the air of Green Gables than there had ever been before in all its history. Even

Marilla was so excited that she couldn't help showing itwhich was little short of being phenomenal.

"There's never been a wedding in this house," she said, half apologetically, to Mrs. Rachel Lynde. "When I

was a child I heard an old minister say that a house was not a real home until it had been consecrated by a

birth, a wedding and a death. We've had deaths heremy father and mother died here as well as Matthew;

and we've even had a birth here. Long ago, just after we moved into this house, we had a married hired man

for a little while, and his wife had a baby here. But there's never been a wedding before. It does seem so

strange to think of Anne being married. In a way she just seems to me the little girl Matthew brought home

here fourteen years ago. I can't realize that she's grown up. I shall never forget what I felt when I saw

Matthew bringing in a GIRL. I wonder what became of the boy we would have got if there hadn't been a

"Well, it was a fortunate mistake," said Mrs. Rachel Lynde, "though, mind you, there was a time I didn't think

sothat evening I came up to see Anne and she treated us to such a scene. Many things have changed since

Mrs. Rachel sighed, and then brisked up again. When weddings were in order Mrs. Rachel was ready to let

"I'm going to give Anne two of my cotton warp spreads," she resumed. "A tobaccostripe one and an

appleleaf one. She tells me they're getting to be real fashionable again. Well, fashion or no fashion, I don't

believe there's anything prettier for a spareroom bed than a nice appleleaf spread, that's what. I must see

about getting them bleached. I've had them sewed up in cotton bags ever since Thomas died, and no doubt

they're an awful color. But there's a month yet, and dewbleaching will work wonders."

"I'm giving Anne that half dozen braided rugs I have in the garret. I never supposed she'd want themthey're

so oldfashioned, and nobody seems to want anything but hooked mats now. But she asked me for

themsaid she'd rather have them than anything else for her floors. They ARE pretty. I made them of the

nicest rags, and braided them in stripes. It was such company these last few winters. And I'll make her

enough blue plum preserve to stock her jam closet for a year. It seems real strange. Those blue plum trees

hadn't even a blossom for three years, and I thought they might as well be cut down. And this last spring they

"Well, thank goodness that Anne and Gilbert really are going to be married after all. It's what I've always

prayed for," said Mrs. Rachel, in the tone of one who is comfortably sure that her prayers have availed much.

"It was a great relief to find out that she really didn't mean to take the Kingsport man. He was rich, to be sure,

"He's Gilbert Blythe," said Marilla contentedly. Marilla would have died the death before she would have put

into words the thought that was always in the background of her mind whenever she had looked at Gilbert

from his childhood upthe thought that, had it not been for her own wilful pride long, long ago, he might

have been HER son. Marilla felt that, in some strange way, his marriage with Anne would put right that old

As for Anne herself, she was so happy that she almost felt frightened. The gods, so says the old superstition,

do not like to behold too happy mortals. It is certain, at least, that some human beings do not. Two of that ilk

descended upon Anne one violet dusk and proceeded to do what in them lay to prick the rainbow bubble of

her satisfaction. If she thought she was getting any particular prize in young Dr. Blythe, or if she imagined

that he was still as infatuated with her as he might have been in his salad days, it was surely their duty to put

the matter before her in another light. Yet these two worthy ladies were not enemies of Anne; on the contrary,

they were really quite fond of her, and would have defended her as their own young had anyone else attacked

Mrs. Inglisnee Jane Andrews, to quote from the Daily Enterprisecame with her mother and Mrs. Jasper

Bell. But in Jane the milk of human kindness had not been curdled by years of matrimonial bickerings. Her

lines had fallen in pleasant places. In spite of the factas Mrs. Rachel Lynde would saythat she had

married a millionaire, her marriage had been happy. Wealth had not spoiled her. She was still the placid,

amiable, pinkcheeked Jane of the old quartette, sympathising with her old chum's happiness and as keenly

interested in all the dainty details of Anne's trousseau as if it could rival her own silken and bejewelled

splendors. Jane was not brilliant, and had probably never made a remark worth listening to in her life; but she

never said anything that would hurt anyone's feelings which may be a negative talent but is likewise a rare

"So Gilbert didn't go back on you after all," said Mrs. Harmon Andrews, contriving to convey an expression

of surprise in her tone. "Well, the Blythes generally keep their word when they've once passed it, no matter

what happens. Let me seeyou're twentyfive, aren't you, Anne? When I was a girl twentyfive was the

"Red hair is very fashionable now," said Anne, trying to smile, but speaking rather coldly. Life had developed

in her a sense of humor which helped her over many difficulties; but as yet nothing had availed to steel her

"So it isso it is," conceded Mrs. Harmon. "There's no telling what queer freaks fashion will take. Well,

Anne, your things are very pretty, and very suitable to your position in life, aren't they, Jane? I hope you'll be

very happy. You have my best wishes, I'm sure. A long engagement doesn't often turn out well. But, of

"Gilbert looks very young for a doctor. I'm afraid people won't have much confidence in him," said Mrs.

Jasper Bell gloomily. Then she shut her mouth tightly, as if she had said what she considered it her duty to

say and held her conscience clear. She belonged to the type which always has a stringy black feather in its hat

Anne's surface pleasure in her pretty bridal things was temporarily shadowed; but the deeps of happiness

below could not thus be disturbed; and the little stings of Mesdames Bell and Andrews were forgotten when

Gilbert came later, and they wandered down to the birches of the brook, which had been saplings when Anne

had come to Green Gables, but were now tall, ivory columns in a fairy palace of twilight and stars. In their

shadows Anne and Gilbert talked in loverfashion of their new home and their new life together.

"No. There was no house to be had in the village. This is a little white house on the harbor shore, half way

between Glen St. Mary and Four Winds Point. It's a little out of the way, but when we get a 'phone in that

won't matter so much. The situation is beautiful. It looks to the sunset and has the great blue harbor before it.

The sanddunes aren't very far awaythe sea winds blow over them and the sea spray drenches them."

"Not very large, but large enough for us. There's a splendid living room with a fireplace in it downstairs, and

a dining room that looks out on the harbor, and a little room that will do for my office. It is about sixty years

oldthe oldest house in Four Winds. But it has been kept in pretty good repair, and was all done over about

fifteen years agoshingled, plastered and refloored. It was well built to begin with. I understand that there

was some romantic story connected with its building, but the man I rented it from didn't know it.

"The keeper of the lighthouse on Four Winds Point. You'll love that Four Winds light, Anne. It's a revolving

one, and it flashes like a magnificent star through the twilights. We can see it from our living room windows

"Well, it's the property of the Glen St. Mary Presbyterian Church now, and I rented it from the trustees. But it

belonged until lately to a very old lady, Miss Elizabeth Russell. She died last spring, and as she had no near

relatives she left her property to the Glen St. Mary Church. Her furniture is still in the house, and I bought

most of itfor a mere song you might say, because it was all so old fashioned that the trustees despaired of

selling it. Glen St. Mary folks prefer plush brocade and sideboards with mirrors and ornamentations, I fancy.

But Miss Russell's furniture is very good and I feel sure you'll like it, Anne."

"So far, good," said Anne, nodding cautious approval. "But, Gilbert, people cannot live by furniture alone.

You haven't yet mentioned one very important thing. Are there TREES about this house?"

"Heaps of them, oh, dryad! There is a big grove of fir trees behind it, two rows of Lombardy poplars down

the lane, and a ring of white birches around a very delightful garden. Our front door opens right into the

garden, but there is another entrancea little gate hung between two firs. The hinges are on one trunk and

"Oh, I'm so glad! I couldn't live where there were no trees something vital in me would starve. Well, after

that, there's no use asking you if there's a brook anywhere near. THAT would be expecting too much."

"Then," said Anne, with a long sigh of supreme satisfaction, "this house you have found IS my house of

"Have you made up your mind who you're going to have to the wedding, Anne?" asked Mrs. Rachel Lynde,

as she hemstitched table napkins industriously. "It's time your invitations were sent, even if they are to be

"I don't mean to have very many," said Anne. "We just want those we love best to see us married. Gilbert's

"There was a time when you'd hardly have numbered Mr. Harrison among your dearest friends," said Marilla

"Well, I wasn't VERY strongly attracted to him at our first meeting," acknowledged Anne, with a laugh over

the recollection. "But Mr. Harrison has improved on acquaintance, and Mrs. Harrison is really a dear. Then,

"Have they decided to come to the Island this summer? I thought they were going to Europe."

"They changed their minds when I wrote them I was going to be married. I had a letter from Paul today. He

"Charlotta the Fourth may come with them. She sent word by Paul that she would come if her husband would

let her. I wonder if she still wears those enormous blue bows, and whether her husband calls her Charlotta or

Leonora. I should love to have Charlotta at my wedding. Charlotta and I were at a wedding long syne. They

"It sounds awful to hear you speaking of a minister like that, Anne," said Mrs. Rachel severely.

"Yes, but I do it reverently," protested Mrs. Lynde. "You never heard me NICKNAME a minister."

"Well, there are Diana and Fred and little Fred and Small Anne Cordeliaand Jane Andrews. I wish I could

have Miss Stacey and Aunt Jamesina and Priscilla and Stella. But Stella is in Vancouver, and Pris is in Japan,

and Miss Stacey is married in California, and Aunt Jamesina has gone to India to explore her daughter's

mission field, in spite of her horror of snakes. It's really dreadfulthe way people get scattered over the

"The Lord never intended it, that's what," said Mrs. Rachel authoritatively. "In my young days people grew

up and married and settled down where they were born, or pretty near it. Thank goodness you've stuck to the

Island, Anne. I was afraid Gilbert would insist on rushing off to the ends of the earth when he got through

"If everybody stayed where he was born places would soon be filled up, Mrs. Lynde."

"Oh, I'm not going to argue with you, Anne. _I_ am not a B.A. What time of the day is the ceremony to be?"

"We have decided on noonhigh noon, as the society reporters say. That will give us time to catch the

"Nonot unless it rains. We mean to be married in the orchard with the blue sky over us and the sunshine

around us. Do you know when and where I'd like to be married, if I could? It would be at dawna June

dawn, with a glorious sunrise, and roses blooming in the gardens; and I would slip down and meet Gilbert

and we would go together to the heart of the beech woods,and there, under the green arches that would be

"But that would be terrible queer, Anne. Why, it wouldn't really seem legal. And what would Mrs. Harmon

"Ah, there's the rub," sighed Anne. "There are so many things in life we cannot do because of the fear of what

Mrs. Harmon Andrews would say. ` 'Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true.' What delightful things we might

"By times, Anne, I don't feel quite sure that I understand you altogether," complained Mrs. Lynde.

"Well, married life will most likely cure her of that," Mrs. Rachel responded comfortingly.

Anne laughed and slipped away to Lover's Lane, where Gilbert found her; and neither of them seemed to

entertain much fear, or hope, that their married life would cure them of romance.

The Echo Lodge people came over the next week, and Green Gables buzzed with the delight of them. Miss

Lavendar had changed so little that the three years since her last Island visit might have been a watch in the

night; but Anne gasped with amazement over Paul. Could this splendid six feet of manhood be the little Paul

"You really make me feel old, Paul," said Anne. "Why, I have to look up to you!"

"You'll never grow old, Teacher," said Paul. "You are one of the fortunate mortals who have found and drunk

from the Fountain of Youth,you and Mother Lavendar. See here! When you're married I WON'T call you

Mrs. Blythe. To me you'll always be `Teacher'the teacher of the best lessons I ever learned. I want to show

The "something" was a pocketbook full of poems. Paul had put some of his beautiful fancies into verse, and

magazine editors had not been as unappreciative as they are sometimes supposed to be. Anne read Paul's

"You'll be famous yet, Paul. I always dreamed of having one famous pupil. He was to be a college

presidentbut a great poet would be even better. Some day I'll be able to boast that I whipped the

distinguished Paul Irving. But then I never did whip you, did I, Paul? What an opportunity lost! I think I kept

"You may be famous yourself, Teacher. I've seen a good deal of your work these last three years."

"No. I know what I can do. I can write pretty, fanciful little sketches that children love and editors send

welcome cheques for. But I can do nothing big. My only chance for earthly immortality is a corner in your

Charlotta the Fourth had discarded the blue bows but her freckles were not noticeably less.

"I never did think I'd come down to marrying a Yankee, Miss Shirley, ma'am," she said. "But you never know

"Miss Shirley, ma'am, I'm NOT! And I wouldn't be if I was to marry a dozen Yankees! Tom's kind of nice.

And besides, I thought I'd better not be too hard to please, for I mightn't get another chance. Tom don't drink

and he don't growl because he has to work between meals, and when all's said and done I'm satisfied, Miss

"Goodness, no, Miss Shirley, ma'am. I wouldn't know who he meant if he did. Of course, when we got

married he had to say, `I take thee, Leonora,' and I declare to you, Miss Shirley, ma'am, I've had the most

dreadful feeling ever since that it wasn't me he was talking to and I haven't been rightly married at all. And so

you're going to be married yourself, Miss Shirley, ma'am? I always thought I'd like to marry a doctor. It

would be so handy when the children had measles and croup. Tom is only a bricklayer, but he's real good

tempered. When I said to him, says I, `Tom, can I go to Miss Shirley's wedding? I mean to go anyhow, but I'd

like to have your consent,' he just says, `Suit yourself, Charlotta, and you'll suit me.' That's a real pleasant

Philippa and her Reverend Jo arrived at Green Gables the day before the wedding. Anne and Phil had a

rapturous meeting which presently simmered down to a cosy, confidential chat over all that had been and was

"Queen Anne, you're as queenly as ever. I've got fearfully thin since the babies came. I'm not half so

goodlooking; but I think Jo likes it. There's not such a contrast between us, you see. And oh, it's perfectly

magnificent that you're going to marry Gilbert. Roy Gardner wouldn't have done at all, at all. I can see that

now, though I was horribly disappointed at the time. You know, Anne, you did treat Roy very badly."

"Oh, yes. He is married and his wife is a sweet little thing and they're perfectly happy. Everything works

together for good. Jo and the Bible say that, and they are pretty good authorities."

"Alec is, but Alonzo isn't. How those dear old days at Patty's Place come back when I'm talking to you,

"Oh, yes, I go often. Miss Patty and Miss Maria still sit by the fireplace and knit. And that reminds

"Oh, I told them. I was there last week. And they were so interested. Two days ago Miss Patty wrote me a

note asking me to call; and then she asked if I would take her gift to you. What would you wish most from

"Go up head. They're in my trunk this very moment. And I've a letter for you. Wait a moment and I'll get it."

"Dear Miss Shirley," Miss Patty had written, "Maria and I were very much interested in hearing of your

approaching nuptials. We send you our best wishes. Maria and I have never married, but we have no

objection to other people doing so. We are sending you the china dogs. I intended to leave them to you in my

will, because you seemed to have sincere affection for them. But Maria and I expect to live a good while yet

(D.V.), so I have decided to give you the dogs while you are young. You will not have forgotten that Gog

"Just fancy those lovely old dogs sitting by the fireplace in my house of dreams," said Anne rapturously. "I

That evening Green Gables hummed with preparations for the following day; but in the twilight Anne slipped

away. She had a little pilgrimage to make on this last day of her girlhood and she must make it alone. She

went to Matthew's grave, in the little poplarshaded Avonlea graveyard, and there kept a silent tryst with old

"How glad Matthew would be tomorrow if he were here," she whispered. "But I believe he does know and is

glad of it somewhere else. I've read somewhere that `our dead are never dead until we have forgotten

She left on his grave the flowers she had brought and walked slowly down the long hill. It was a gracious

evening, full of delectable lights and shadows. In the west was a sky of mackerel clouds crimson and

ambertinted, with long strips of applegreen sky between. Beyond was the glimmering radiance of a sunset

sea, and the ceaseless voice of many waters came up from the tawny shore. All around her, lying in the fine,

beautiful country silence, were the hills and fields and woods she had known and loved so long.

"History repeats itself," said Gilbert, joining her as she passed the Blythe gate. "Do you remember our first

"I was coming home in the twilight from Matthew's graveand you came out of the gate; and I swallowed

"And all heaven opened before me," supplemented Gilbert. "From that moment I looked forward to

tomorrow. When I left you at your gate that night and walked home I was the happiest boy in the world. Anne

"I think you had the most to forgive. I was an ungrateful little wretchand after you had really saved my life

that day on the pond, too. How I loathed that load of obligation at first! I don't deserve the happiness that has

Gilbert laughed and clasped tighter the girlish hand that wore his ring. Anne's engagement ring was a circlet

"I've never really liked diamonds since I found out they weren't the lovely purple I had dreamed. They will

"I'm not afraid of that. And tears can be happy as well as sad. My very happiest moments have been when I

had tears in my eyes when Marilla told me I might stay at Green Gableswhen Matthew gave me the first

pretty dress I ever hadwhen I heard that you were going to recover from the fever. So give me pearls for

our troth ring, Gilbert, and I'll willingly accept the sorrow of life with its joy."

But tonight our lovers thought only of joy and never of sorrow. For the morrow was their wedding day, and

their house of dreams awaited them on the misty, purple shore of Four Winds Harbor.

Anne wakened on the morning of her wedding day to find the sunshine winking in at the window of the little

She recalled the first morning she had wakened in that little porch room, when the sunshine had crept in on

her through the blossom drift of the old Snow Queen. That had not been a happy wakening, for it brought

with it the bitter disappointment of the preceding night. But since then the little room had been endeared and

consecrated by years of happy childhood dreams and maiden visions. To it she had come back joyfully after

all her absences; at its window she had knelt through that night of bitter agony when she believed Gilbert

dying, and by it she had sat in speechless happiness the night of her betrothal. Many vigils of joy and some of

sorrow had been kept there; and today she must leave it forever. Henceforth it would be hers no more;

fifteenyearold Dora was to inherit it when she had gone. Nor did Anne wish it otherwise; the little room

was sacred to youth and girlhoodto the past that was to close today before the chapter of wifehood opened.

Green Gables was a busy and joyous house that forenoon. Diana arrived early, with little Fred and Small

Anne Cordelia, to lend a hand. Davy and Dora, the Green Gables twins, whisked the babies off to the garden.

"You needn't be afraid to trust her with Dora," said Marilla. "That child is more sensible and careful than

most of the mothers I've known. She's really a wonder in some ways. Not much like that other harumscarum

Marilla smiled across her chicken salad at Anne. It might even be suspected that she liked the harumscarum

"Those twins are real nice children," said Mrs. Rachel, when she was sure they were out of earshot. "Dora is

so womanly and helpful, and Davy is developing into a very smart boy. He isn't the holy terror for mischief

"I never was so distracted in my life as I was the first six months he was here," acknowledged Marilla. "After

that I suppose I got used to him. He's taken a great notion to farming lately, and wants me to let him try

running the farm next year. I may, for Mr. Barry doesn't think he'll want to rent it much longer, and some new

"Well, you certainly have a lovely day for your wedding, Anne," said Diana, as she slipped a voluminous

apron over her silken array. "You couldn't have had a finer one if you'd ordered it from Eaton's."

"Indeed, there's too much money going out of this Island to that same Eaton's," said Mrs. Lynde indignantly.

She had strong views on the subject of octopuslike department stores, and never lost an opportunity of

airing them. "And as for those catalogues of theirs, they're the Avonlea girls' Bible now, that's what. They

"Well, they're splendid to amuse children with," said Diana. "Fred and Small Anne look at the pictures by the

"_I_ amused ten children without the aid of Eaton's catalogue," said Mrs. Rachel severely.

"Come, you two, don't quarrel over Eaton's catalogue," said Anne gaily. "This is my day of days, you know.

"I'm sure I hope your happiness will last, child," sighed Mrs. Rachel. She did hope it truly, and believed it,

but she was afraid it was in the nature of a challenge to Providence to flaunt your happiness too openly.

But it was a happy and beautiful bride who came down the old, homespuncarpeted stairs that September

noonthe first bride of Green Gables, slender and shiningeyed, in the mist of her maiden veil, with her

arms full of roses. Gilbert, waiting for her in the hall below, looked up at her with adoring eyes. She was his

at last, this evasive, longsought Anne, won after years of patient waiting. It was to him she was coming in

the sweet surrender of the bride. Was he worthy of her? Could he make her as happy as he hoped? If he failed

herif he could not measure up to her standard of manhoodthen, as she held out her hand, their eyes met

and all doubt was swept away in a glad certainty. They belonged to each other; and, no matter what life might

hold for them, it could never alter that. Their happiness was in each other's keeping and both were unafraid.

They were married in the sunshine of the old orchard, circled by the loving and kindly faces of longfamiliar

friends. Mr. Allan married them, and the Reverend Jo made what Mrs. Rachel Lynde afterwards pronounced

to be the "most beautiful wedding prayer" she had ever heard. Birds do not often sing in September, but one

sang sweetly from some hidden bough while Gilbert and Anne repeated their deathless vows. Anne heard it

and thrilled to it; Gilbert heard it, and wondered only that all the birds in the world had not burst into jubilant

song; Paul heard it and later wrote a lyric about it which was one of the most admired in his first volume of

verse; Charlotta the Fourth heard it and was blissfully sure it meant good luck for her adored Miss Shirley.

The bird sang until the ceremony was ended and then it wound up with one mad little, glad little trill. Never

had the old graygreen house among its enfolding orchards known a blither, merrier afternoon. All the old

jests and quips that must have done duty at weddings since Eden were served up, and seemed as new and

brilliant and mirthprovoking as if they had never been uttered before. Laughter and joy had their way; and

when Anne and Gilbert left to catch the Carmody train, with Paul as driver, the twins were ready with rice

and old shoes, in the throwing of which Charlotta the Fourth and Mr. Harrison bore a valiant part. Marilla

stood at the gate and watched the carriage out of sight down the long lane with its banks of goldenrod. Anne

turned at its end to wave her last goodbye. She was goneGreen Gables was her home no more; Marilla's

face looked very gray and old as she turned to the house which Anne had filled for fourteen years, and even

But Diana and her small fry, the Echo Lodge people and the Allans, had stayed to help the two old ladies over

the loneliness of the first evening; and they contrived to have a quietly pleasant little supper time, sitting long

around the table and chatting over all the details of the day. While they were sitting there Anne and Gilbert

Dr. David Blythe had sent his horse and buggy to meet them, and the urchin who had brought it slipped away

with a sympathetic grin, leaving them to the delight of driving alone to their new home through the radiant

Anne never forgot the loveliness of the view that broke upon them when they had driven over the hill behind

the village. Her new home could not yet be seen; but before her lay Four Winds Harbor like a great, shining

mirror of rose and silver. Far down, she saw its entrance between the bar of sand dunes on one side and a

steep, high, grim, red sandstone cliff on the other. Beyond the bar the sea, calm and austere, dreamed in the

afterlight. The little fishing village, nestled in the cove where the sanddunes met the harbor shore, looked

like a great opal in the haze. The sky over them was like a jewelled cup from which the dusk was pouring; the

air was crisp with the compelling tang of the sea, and the whole landscape was infused with the subtleties of a

sea evening. A few dim sails drifted along the darkening, firclad harbor shores. A bell was ringing from the

tower of a little white church on the far side; mellowly and dreamily sweet, the chime floated across the water

blent with the moan of the sea. The great revolving light on the cliff at the channel flashed warm and golden

against the clear northern sky, a trembling, quivering star of good hope. Far out along the horizon was the

"Oh, beautiful, beautiful," murmured Anne. "I shall love Four Winds, Gilbert. Where is our house?"

"We can't see it yetthe belt of birch running up from that little cove hides it. It's about two miles from Glen

St. Mary, and there's another mile between it and the lighthouse. We won't have many neighbors, Anne.

There's only one house near us and I don't know who lives in it. Shall you be lonely when I'm away?"

"Not with that light and that loveliness for company. Who lives in that house, Gilbert?"

"I don't know. It doesn't lookexactlyas if the occupants would be kindred spirits, Anne, does it?"

The house was a large, substantial affair, painted such a vivid green that the landscape seemed quite faded by

contrast. There was an orchard behind it, and a nicely kept lawn before it, but, somehow, there was a certain

bareness about it. Perhaps its neatness was responsible for this; the whole establishment, house, barns,

"It doesn't seem probable that anyone with that taste in paint could be VERY kindred," acknowledged Anne,

"unless it were an accidentlike our blue hall. I feel certain there are no children there, at least. It's even

neater than the old Copp place on the Tory road, and I never expected to see anything neater than that."

They had not met anybody on the moist, red road that wound along the harbor shore. But just before they

came to the belt of birch which hid their home, Anne saw a girl who was driving a flock of snow white

geese along the crest of a velvety green hill on the right. Great, scattered firs grew along it. Between their

trunks one saw glimpses of yellow harvest fields, gleams of golden sandhills, and bits of blue sea. The girl

was tall and wore a dress of pale blue print. She walked with a certain springiness of step and erectness of

bearing. She and her geese came out of the gate at the foot of the hill as Anne and Gilbert passed. She stood

with her hand on the fastening of the gate, and looked steadily at them, with an expression that hardly

attained to interest, but did not descend to curiosity. It seemed to Anne, for a fleeting moment, that there was

even a veiled hint of hostility in it. But it was the girl's beauty which made Anne give a little gaspa beauty

so marked that it must have attracted attention anywhere. She was hatless, but heavy braids of burnished hair,

the hue of ripe wheat, were twisted about her head like a coronet; her eyes were blue and starlike; her figure,

in its plain print gown, was magnificent; and her lips were as crimson as the bunch of bloodred poppies she

"She was standing by that gateno, don't look back. She is still watching us. I never saw such a beautiful

"I don't remember seeing any very handsome girls while I was here. There are some pretty girls up at the

"This girl is. You can't have seen her, or you would remember her. Nobody could forget her. I never saw such

a face except in pictures. And her hair! It made me think of Browning's `cord of gold' and `gorgeous snake'!"

"Probably she's some visitor in Four Windslikely some one from that big summer hotel over the harbor."

Anne looked and forgot for a time the girl with the splendid, resentful eyes. The first glimpse of her new

home was a delight to eye and spiritit looked so like a big, creamy seashell stranded on the harbor shore.

The rows of tall Lombardy poplars down its lane stood out in stately, purple silhouette against the sky.

Behind it, sheltering its garden from the too keen breath of sea winds, was a cloudy fir wood, in which the

winds might make all kinds of weird and haunting music. Like all woods, it seemed to be holding and

enfolding secrets in its recesses,secrets whose charm is only to be won by entering in and patiently

seeking. Outwardly, dark green arms keep them inviolate from curious or indifferent eyes.

The night winds were beginning their wild dances beyond the bar and the fishing hamlet across the harbor

was gemmed with lights as Anne and Gilbert drove up the poplar lane. The door of the little house opened,

and a warm glow of firelight flickered out into the dusk. Gilbert lifted Anne from the buggy and led her into

the garden, through the little gate between the ruddytipped firs, up the trim, red path to the sandstone step.

"Welcome home," he whispered, and hand in hand they stepped over the threshold of their house of dreams.

"Old Doctor Dave" and "Mrs. Doctor Dave" had come down to the little house to greet the bride and groom.

Doctor Dave was a big, jolly, whitewhiskered old fellow, and Mrs. Doctor was a trim rosycheeked,

silverhaired little lady who took Anne at once to her heart, literally and figuratively.

"I'm so glad to see you, dear. You must be real tired. We've got a bite of supper ready, and Captain Jim

brought up some trout for you. Captain Jimwhere are you? Oh, he's slipped out to see to the horse, I

Anne looked about her with bright, appreciative eyes as she followed Mrs. Doctor Dave upstairs. She liked

the appearance of her new home very much. It seemed to have the atmosphere of Green Gables and the flavor

"I think I would have found Miss Elizabeth Russell a `kindred spirit,'" she murmured when she was alone in

her room. There were two windows in it; the dormer one looked out on the lower harbor and the sandbar

quoted Anne softly. The gable window gave a view of a little harvesthued valley through which a brook ran.

Half a mile up the brook was the only house in sightan old, rambling, gray one surrounded by huge

willows through which its windows peered, like shy, seeking eyes, into the dusk. Anne wondered who lived

there; they would be her nearest neighbors and she hoped they would be nice. She suddenly found herself

"Gilbert thought she didn't belong here," mused Anne, "but I feel sure she does. There was something about

her that made her part of the sea and the sky and the harbor. Four Winds is in her blood."

When Anne went downstairs Gilbert was standing before the fireplace talking to a stranger. Both turned as

It was the first time Gilbert had said "my wife" to anybody but Anne, and he narrowly escaped bursting with

the pride of it. The old captain held out a sinewy hand to Anne; they smiled at each other and were friends

"I'm right down pleased to meet you, Mistress Blythe; and I hope you'll be as happy as the first bride was

who came here. I can't wish you no better than THAT. But your husband doesn't introduce me jest exactly

right. `Captain Jim' is my weekaday name and you might as well begin as you're sartain to end

upcalling me that. You sartainly are a nice little bride, Mistress Blythe. Looking at you sorter makes me

Amid the laughter that followed Mrs. Doctor Dave urged Captain Jim to stay and have supper with them.

"Thank you kindly. 'Twill be a real treat, Mistress Doctor. I mostly has to eat my meals alone, with the

reflection of my ugly old phiz in a lookingglass opposite for company. 'Tisn't often I have a chance to sit

Captain Jim's compliments may look very bald on paper, but he paid them with such a gracious, gentle

deference of tone and look that the woman upon whom they were bestowed felt that she was being offered a

Captain Jim was a highsouled, simpleminded old man, with eternal youth in his eyes and heart. He had a

tall, rather ungainly figure, somewhat stooped, yet suggestive of great strength and endurance; a

cleanshaven face deeply lined and bronzed; a thick mane of irongray hair falling quite to his shoulders, and

a pair of remarkably blue, deepset eyes, which sometimes twinkled and sometimes dreamed, and sometimes

looked out seaward with a wistful quest in them, as of one seeking something precious and lost. Anne was to

It could not be denied that Captain Jim was a homely man. His spare jaws, rugged mouth, and square brow

were not fashioned on the lines of beauty; and he had passed through many hardships and sorrows which had

marked his body as well as his soul; but though at first sight Anne thought him plain she never thought

anything more about itthe spirit shining through that rugged tenement beautified it so wholly.

They gathered gaily around the supper table. The hearth fire banished the chill of the September evening, but

the window of the dining room was open and sea breezes entered at their own sweet will. The view was

magnificent, taking in the harbor and the sweep of low, purple hills beyond. The table was heaped with Mrs.

Doctor's delicacies but the piece de resistance was undoubtedly the big platter of sea trout.

"Thought they'd be sorter tasty after travelling," said Captain Jim. "They're fresh as trout can be, Mistress

"Nephew Alec. He understands it as well as I do. Well, now, I'm real glad you asked me to stay to supper. I'm

"I believe you half starve yourself most of the time down at that light," said Mrs. Doctor Dave severely. "You

"Oh, I do, Mistress Doctor, I do," protested Captain Jim. "Why, I live like a king gen'rally. Last night I was

up to the Glen and took home two pounds of steak. I meant to have a spanking good dinner today."

"And what happened to the steak?" asked Mrs. Doctor Dave. "Did you lose it on the way home?"

"No." Captain Jim looked sheepish. "Just at bedtime a poor, ornery sort of dog came along and asked for a

night's lodging. Guess he belonged to some of the fishermen 'long shore. I couldn't turn the poor cur outhe

had a sore foot. So I shut him in the porch, with an old bag to lie on, and went to bed. But somehow I couldn't

"And you got up and gave him that steakALL that steak," said Mrs. Doctor Dave, with a kind of

"Well, there wasn't anything else TO give him," said Captain Jim deprecatingly. "Nothing a dog'd care for,

that is. I reckon he WAS hungry, for he made about two bites of it. I had a fine sleep the rest of the night but

my dinner had to be sorter scantypotatoes and point, as you might say. The dog, he lit out for home this

"You don't know but he may be worth a lot to somebody," protested Captain Jim. "He didn't LOOK of much

account, but you can't go by looks in jedging a dog. Like meself, he might be a real beauty inside. The First

Mate didn't approve of him, I'll allow. His language was right down forcible. But the First Mate is prejudiced.

No use in taking a cat's opinion of a dog. 'Tennyrate, I lost my dinner, so this nice spread in this deelightful

"Mrs. Dick Moore," said Captain Jim"and her husband," he added, as if by way of an afterthought.

Anne smiled, and deduced a mental picture of Mrs. Dick Moore from Captain Jim's way of putting it;

"You haven't many neighbors, Mistress Blythe," Captain Jim went on. "This side of the harbor is mighty

thinly settled. Most of the land belongs to Mr. Howard up yander past the Glen, and he rents it out for

pasture. The other side of the harbor, now, is thick with folks'specially MacAllisters. There's a whole

colony of MacAllisters you can't throw a stone but you hit one. I was talking to old Leon Blacquiere the other

day. He's been working on the harbor all summer. `Dey're nearly all MacAllisters over thar,' he told me.

`Dare's Neil MacAllister and Sandy MacAllister and William MacAllister and Alec MacAllister and Angus

"There are nearly as many Elliotts and Crawfords," said Doctor Dave, after the laughter had subsided. "You

know, Gilbert, we folk on this side of Four Winds have an old saying`From the conceit of the Elliotts, the

pride of the MacAllisters, and the vainglory of the Crawfords, good Lord deliver us.'"

"There's a plenty of fine people among them, though," said Captain Jim. "I sailed with William Crawford for

many a year, and for courage and endurance and truth that man hadn't an equal. They've got brains over on

that side of Four Winds. Mebbe that's why this side is sorter inclined to pick on 'em. Strange, ain't it, how

Doctor Dave, who had a forty years' feud with the overharbor people, laughed and subsided.

"Who lives in that brilliant emerald house about half a mile up the road?" asked Gilbert.

"Miss Cornelia Bryant. She'll likely be over to see you soon, seeing you're Presbyterians. If you were

"No, 'tisn't sour grapes," answered Captain Jim seriously. "Cornelia could have had her pick when she was

young. Even yet she's only to say the word to see the old widowers jump. She jest seems to have been born

with a sort of chronic spite agin men and Methodists. She's got the bitterest tongue and the kindest heart in

Four Winds. Wherever there's any trouble, that woman is there, doing everything to help in the tenderest way.

She never says a harsh word about another woman, and if she likes to card us poor scalawags of men down I

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I don't half like it. It makes me feel as if there must be something sorter unnateral about

"Who was the first bride who came to this house, Captain Jim?" Anne asked, as they sat around the fireplace

"Was she a part of the story I've heard was connected with this house?" asked Gilbert. "Somebody told me

"Well, yes, I know it. I reckon I'm the only person living in Four Winds now that can remember the

schoolmaster's bride as she was when she come to the Island. She's been dead this thirty year, but she was one

"Tell us the story," pleaded Anne. "I want to find out all about the women who have lived in this house

"Well, there's jest been threeElizabeth Russell, and Mrs. Ned Russell, and the schoolmaster's bride.

Elizabeth Russell was a nice, clever little critter, and Mrs. Ned was a nice woman, too. But they weren't ever

"The schoolmaster's name was John Selwyn. He came out from the Old Country to teach school at the Glen

when I was a boy of sixteen. He wasn't much like the usual run of derelicts who used to come out to P.E.I. to

teach school in them days. Most of them were clever, drunken critters who taught the children the three R's

when they were sober, and lambasted them when they wasn't. But John Selwyn was a fine, handsome young

fellow. He boarded at my father's, and he and me were cronies, though he was ten years older'n me. We read

and walked and talked a heap together. He knew about all the poetry that was ever written, I reckon, and he

used to quote it to me along shore in the evenings. Dad thought it an awful waste of time, but he sorter

endured it, hoping it'd put me off the notion of going to sea. Well, nothing could do THATmother come of

a race of seagoing folk and it was born in me. But I loved to hear John read and recite. It's almost sixty years

ago, but I could repeat yards of poetry I learned from him. Nearly sixty years!"

Captain Jim was silent for a space, gazing into the glowing fire in a quest of the bygones. Then, with a sigh,

"I remember one spring evening I met him on the sandhills. He looked sorter upliftedjest like you did, Dr.

Blythe, when you brought Mistress Blythe in tonight. I thought of him the minute I seen you. And he told me

that he had a sweetheart back home and that she was coming out to him. I wasn't more'n half pleased, ornery

young lump of selfishness that I was; I thought he wouldn't be as much my friend after she came. But I'd

enough decency not to let him see it. He told me all about her. Her name was Persis Leigh, and she would

have come out with him if it hadn't been for her old uncle. He was sick, and he'd looked after her when her

parents died and she wouldn't leave him. And now he was dead and she was coming out to marry John

Selwyn. 'Twasn't no easy journey for a woman in them days. There weren't no steamers, you must ricollect.

"`She sails on the Royal William, the 20th of June,' says he, `and so she should be here by midJuly. I must

set Carpenter Johnson to building me a home for her. Her letter come today. I know before I opened it that it

"I didn't understand him, and then he explainedthough I didn't understand THAT much better. He said he

had a giftor a curse. Them was his words, Mistress Blythea gift or a curse. He didn't know which it was.

He said a greatgreatgrandmother of his had had it, and they burned her for a witch on account of it. He said

queer spellstrances, I think was the name he give 'emcome over him now and again. Are there such

"There are people who are certainly subject to trances," answered Gilbert. "The matter is more in the line of

psychical research than medical. What were the trances of this John Selwyn like?"

"Mind you, I'm telling you jest what HE saidthings that were happeningthings that were GOING to

happen. He said they were sometimes a comfort to him and sometimes a horror. Four nights before this he'd

been in onewent into it while he was sitting looking at the fire. And he saw an old room he knew well in

England, and Persis Leigh in it, holding out her hands to him and looking glad and happy. So he knew he was

"Likelylikely," conceded Captain Jim. "That's what _I_ said to him at the time. It was a vast more

comfortable to think so. I didn't like the idea of him seeing things like thatit was real uncanny.

"`No,' says he, `I didn't dream it. But we won't talk of this again. You won't be so much my friend if you

"I told him nothing could make me any less his friend. But he jest shook his head and says, says he:

"`Lad, I know. I've lost friends before because of this. I don't blame them. There are times when I feel hardly

friendly to myself because of it. Such a power has a bit of divinity in itwhether of a good or an evil

divinity who shall say? And we mortals all shrink from too close contact with God or devil.'

"Them was his words. I remember them as if 'twas yesterday, though I didn't know jest what he meant. What

"I think I understand," whispered Anne. She was listening in her old attitude of clasped lips and shining eyes.

Captain Jim treated himself to an admiring smile before he went on with his story.

"Well, purty soon all the Glen and Four Winds people knew the schoolmaster's bride was coming, and they

were all glad because they thought so much of him. And everybody took an interest in his new houseTHIS

house. He picked this site for it, because you could see the harbor and hear the sea from it. He made the

garden out there for his bride, but he didn't plant the Lombardies. Mrs. Ned Russell planted THEM. But

there's a double row of rosebushes in the garden that the little girls who went to the Glen school set out there

for the schoolmaster's bride. He said they were pink for her cheeks and white for her brow and red for her

lips. He'd quoted poetry so much that he sorter got into the habit of talking it, too, I reckon.

"Almost everybody sent him some little present to help out the furnishing of the house. When the Russells

came into it they were welltodo and furnished it real handsome, as you can see; but the first furniture that

went into it was plain enough. This little house was rich in love, though. The women sent in quilts and

tablecloths and towels, and one man made a chest for her, and another a table and so on. Even blind old Aunt

Margaret Boyd wove a little basket for her out of the sweetscented sandhill grass. The schoolmaster's wife

"Well, at last everything was readyeven to the logs in the big fireplace ready for lighting. 'Twasn't exactly

THIS fireplace, though 'twas in the same place. Miss Elizabeth had this put in when she made the house over

fifteen years ago. It was a big, oldfashioned fireplace where you could have roasted an ox. Many's the time

Again there was a silence, while Captain Jim kept a passing tryst with visitants Anne and Gilbert could not

seethe folks who had sat with him around that fireplace in the vanished years, with mirth and bridal joy

shining in eyes long since closed forever under churchyard sod or heaving leagues of sea. Here on olden

nights children had tossed laughter lightly to and fro. Here on winter evenings friends had gathered. Dance

and music and jest had been here. Here youths and maidens had dreamed. For Captain Jim the little house

"It was the first of July when the house was finished. The schoolmaster began to count the days then. We

used to see him walking along the shore, and we'd say to each other, `She'll soon be with him now.'

"She was expected the middle of July, but she didn't come then. Nobody felt anxious. Vessels were often

delayed for days and mebbe weeks. The Royal William was a week overdueand then twoand then three.

And at last we began to be frightened, and it got worse and worse. Fin'lly I couldn't bear to look into John

Selwyn's eyes. D'ye know, Mistress Blythe"Captain Jim lowered his voice"I used to think that they

looked just like what his old greatgreatgrandmother's must have been when they were burning her to death.

He never said much but he taught school like a man in a dream and then hurried to the shore. Many a night he

walked there from dark to dawn. People said he was losing his mind. Everybody had given up hopethe

Royal William was eight weeks overdue. It was the middle of September and the schoolmaster's bride hadn't

"There was a big storm then that lasted three days, and on the evening after it died away I went to the shore. I

found the schoolmaster there, leaning with his arms folded against a big rock, gazing out to sea.

"I spoke to him but he didn't answer. His eyes seemed to be looking at something I couldn't see. His face was

"`JohnJohn,' I called outjest like thatjest like a frightened child, `wake upwake up.'

He turned his head and looked at me. I've never forgot his face never will forget it till I ships for my last

"`All is well, lad,' he says. `I've seen the Royal William coming around East Point. She will be here by dawn.

"God knows," said Gilbert softly. "Great love and great pain might compass we know not what marvels."

"Because, you know," said Captain Jim solemnly, "the Royal William came into Four Winds Harbor at

Every soul in the Glen and along the shore was at the old wharf to meet her. The schoolmaster had been

Captain Jim's eyes were shining. They were looking at the Four Winds Harbor of sixty years agone, with a

"Yesher and the captain's wife. They'd had an awful passage storm after stormand their provisions

give out, too. But there they were at last. When Persis Leigh stepped onto the old wharf John Selwyn took her

in his armsand folks stopped cheering and begun to cry. I cried myself, though 'twas years, mind you,

"Well, I don't know that you'd call her beautiful exactlyI don'tknow," said Captain Jim slowly.

"Somehow, you never got so far along as to wonder if she was handsome or not. It jest didn't matter. There

was something so sweet and winsome about her that you had to love her, that was all. But she was pleasant to

look atbig, clear, hazel eyes and heaps of glossy brown hair, and an English skin. John and her were

married at our house that night at early candlelighting; everybody from far and near was there to see it and

we all brought them down here afterwards. Mistress Selwyn lighted the fire, and we went away and left them

sitting here, jest as John had seen in that vision of his. A strange thinga strange thing! But I've seen a

"It's a dear story," said Anne, feeling that for once she had got enough romance to satisfy her. "How long did

"Fifteen years. I ran off to sea soon after they were married, like the young scalawag I was. But every time I

come back from a voyage I'd head for here, even before I went home, and tell Mistress Selwyn all about it.

Fifteen happy years! They had a sort of talent for happiness, them two. Some folks are like that, if you've

noticed. They COULDN'T be unhappy for long, no matter what happened. They quarrelled once or twice, for

they was both highsperrited. But Mistress Selwyn says to me once, says she, laughing in that pretty way of

hers, `I felt dreadful when John and I quarrelled, but underneath it all I was very happy because I had such a

nice husband to quarrel with and make it up with.' Then they moved to Charlottetown, and Ned Russell

bought this house and brought his bride here. They were a gay young pair, as I remember them. Miss

Elizabeth Russell was Alec's sister. She came to live with them a year or so later, and she was a creature of

mirth, too. The walls of this house must be sorter SOAKED with laughing and good times. You're the third

Captain Jim contrived to give his sunflower compliment the delicacy of a violet, and Anne wore it proudly.

She was looking her best that night, with the bridal rose on her cheeks and the lovelight in her eyes; even

gruff old Doctor Dave gave her an approving glance, and told his wife, as they drove home together, that that

"I must be getting back to the light," announced Captain Jim. "I've enj'yed this evening something tremenjus."

"I wonder if you'd give that invitation if you knew how likely I'll be to accept it," Captain Jim remarked

"Which is another way of saying you wonder if I mean it," smiled Anne. "I do, `cross my heart,' as we used to

"Then I'll come. You're likely to be pestered with me at any hour. And I'll be proud to have you drop down

and visit me now and then, too. Gin'rally I haven't anyone to talk to but the First Mate, bless his sociable

heart. He's a mighty good listener, and has forgot more'n any MacAllister of them all ever knew, but he isn't

much of a conversationalist. You're young and I'm old, but our souls are about the same age, I reckon. We

"Yes. Cornelia divides all the folks in the world into two kinds the race that knows Joseph and the race that

don't. If a person sorter sees eye to eye with you, and has pretty much the same ideas about things, and the

"Jest sojest so," agreed Captain Jim. "We're it, whatever IT is. When you come in tonight, Mistress Blythe,

I says to myself, says I, `Yes, she's of the race that knows Joseph.' And mighty glad I was, for if it wasn't so

we couldn't have had any real satisfaction in each other's company. The race that knows Joseph is the salt of

The moon had just risen when Anne and Gilbert went to the door with their guests. Four Winds Harbor was

beginning to be a thing of dream and glamour and enchantmenta spellbound haven where no tempest

might ever ravin. The Lombardies down the lane, tall and sombre as the priestly forms of some mystic band,

"Always liked Lombardies," said Captain Jim, waving a long arm at them. "They're the trees of princesses.

They're out of fashion now. Folks complain that they die at the top and get raggedlooking. So they doso

they do, if you don't risk your neck every spring climbing up a light ladder to trim them out. I always did it

for Miss Elizabeth, so her Lombardies never got outatelbows. She was especially fond of them. She liked

their dignity and standoffishness. THEY don't hobnob with every Tom, Dick and Harry. If it's maples for

"What a beautiful night," said Mrs. Doctor Dave, as she climbed into the Doctor's buggy.

"Most nights are beautiful," said Captain Jim. "But I 'low that moonlight over Four Winds makes me sorter

wonder what's left for heaven. The moon's a great friend of mine, Mistress Blythe. I've loved her ever since I

can remember. When I was a little chap of eight I fell asleep in the garden one evening and wasn't missed. I

woke up along in the night and I was most scared to death. What shadows and queer noises there was! I

dursn't move. Jest crouched there quaking, poor small mite. Seemed 'sif there weren't anyone in the world but

meself and it was mighty big. Then all at once I saw the moon looking down at me through the apple boughs,

jest like an old friend. I was comforted right off. Got up and walked to the house as brave as a lion, looking at

her. Many's the night I've watched her from the deck of my vessel, on seas far away from here. Why don't

The laughter of the goodnights died away. Anne and Gilbert walked hand in hand around their garden. The

brook that ran across the corner dimpled pellucidly in the shadows of the birches. The poppies along its banks

were like shallow cups of moonlight. Flowers that had been planted by the hands of the schoolmaster's bride

flung their sweetness on the shadowy air, like the beauty and blessing of sacred yesterdays. Anne paused in

"I love to smell flowers in the dark," she said. "You get hold of their soul then. Oh, Gilbert, this little house is

all I've dreamed it. And I'm so glad that we are not the first who have kept bridal tryst here!"

That September was a month of golden mists and purple hazes at Four Winds Harbora month of

sunsteeped days and of nights that were swimming in moonlight, or pulsating with stars. No storm marred

it, no rough wind blew. Anne and Gilbert put their nest in order, rambled on the shores, sailed on the harbor,

drove about Four Winds and the Glen, or through the ferny, sequestered roads of the woods around the harbor

head; in short, had such a honeymoon as any lovers in the world might have envied them.

"If life were to stop short just now it would still have been richly worth while, just for the sake of these past

four weeks, wouldn't it?" said Anne. "I don't suppose we will ever have four such perfect weeks againbut

we've HAD them. Everythingwind, weather, folks, house of dreamshas conspired to make our

"Well, `that's a pleasure all the greater for being deferred,'" quoted Anne. "I'm so glad we decided to spend

our honeymoon here. Our memories of it will always belong here, in our house of dreams, instead of being

There was a certain tang of romance and adventure in the atmosphere of their new home which Anne had

never found in Avonlea. There, although she had lived in sight of the sea, it had not entered intimately into

her life. In Four Winds it surrounded her and called to her constantly. From every window of her new home

she saw some varying aspect of it. Its haunting murmur was ever in her ears. Vessels sailed up the harbor

every day to the wharf at the Glen, or sailed out again through the sunset, bound for ports that might be half

way round the globe. Fishing boats went whitewinged down the channel in the mornings, and returned laden

in the evenings. Sailors and fisherfolk travelled the red, winding harbor roads, lighthearted and content.

There was always a certain sense of things going to happenof adventures and faringsforth. The ways of

Four Winds were less staid and settled and grooved than those of Avonlea; winds of change blew over them;

the sea called ever to the dwellers on shore, and even those who might not answer its call felt the thrill and

"I understand now why some men must go to sea," said Anne. "That desire which comes to us all at

times`to sail beyond the bourne of sunset'must be very imperious when it is born in you. I don't wonder

Captain Jim ran away because of it. I never see a ship sailing out of the channel, or a gull soaring over the

sandbar, without wishing I were on board the ship or had wings, not like a dove `to fly away and be at rest,'

"You'll stay right here with me, Annegirl," said Gilbert lazily. "I won't have you flying away from me into

They were sitting on their red sandstone doorstep in the late afternoon. Great tranquillities were all about

them in land and sea and sky. Silvery gulls were soaring over them. The horizons were laced with long trails

of frail, pinkish clouds. The hushed air was threaded with a murmurous refrain of minstrel winds and waves.

Pale asters were blowing in the sere and misty meadows between them and the harbor.

"Doctors who have to be up all night waiting on sick folk don't feel very adventurous, I suppose," Anne said

indulgently. "If you had had a good sleep last night, Gilbert, you'd be as ready as I am for a flight of

"I did good work last night, Anne," said Gilbert quietly. "Under God, I saved a life. This is the first time I

could ever really claim that. In other cases I may have helped; but, Anne, if I had not stayed at Allonby's last

night and fought death hand to hand, that woman would have died before morning. I tried an experiment that

was certainly never tried in Four Winds before. I doubt if it was ever tried anywhere before outside of a

hospital. It was a new thing in Kingsport hospital last winter. I could never have dared try it here if I had not

been absolutely certain that there was no other chance. I risked itand it succeeded. As a result, a good wife

and mother is saved for long years of happiness and usefulness. As I drove home this morning, while the sun

was rising over the harbor, I thanked God that I had chosen the profession I did. I had fought a good fight and

wonthink of it, Anne, WON, against the Great Destroyer. It's what I dreamed of doing long ago when we

talked together of what we wanted to do in life. That dream of mine came true this morning."

"Was that the only one of your dreams that has come true?" asked Anne, who knew perfectly well what the

"YOU know, Annegirl," said Gilbert, smiling into her eyes. At that moment there were certainly two

perfectly happy people sitting on the doorstep of a little white house on the Four Winds Harbor shore.

Presently Gilbert said, with a change of tone, "Do I or do I not see a fullrigged ship sailing up our lane?"

"That must be either Miss Cornelia Bryant or Mrs. Moore coming to call," she said.

"I'm going into the office, and if it is Miss Cornelia I warn you that I'll eavesdrop," said Gilbert. "From all

I've heard regarding Miss Cornelia I conclude that her conversation will not be dull, to say the least."

"I don't think Mrs. Moore is built on those lines. I saw her working in her garden the other day, and, though I

was too far away to see clearly, I thought she was rather slender. She doesn't seem very socially inclined

"She can't be like Mrs. Lynde, after all, or curiosity would have brought her," said Anne. "This caller is, I

Miss Cornelia it was; moreover, Miss Cornelia had not come to make any brief and fashionable wedding call.

She had her work under her arm in a substantial parcel, and when Anne asked her to stay she promptly took

off her capacious sunhat, which had been held on her head, despite irreverent September breezes, by a tight

elastic band under her hard little knob of fair hair. No hat pins for Miss Cornelia, an it please ye! Elastic

bands had been good enough for her mother and they were good enough for HER. She had a fresh, round,

pinkandwhite face, and jolly brown eyes. She did not look in the least like the traditional old maid, and

there was something in her expression which won Anne instantly. With her old instinctive quickness to

discern kindred spirits she knew she was going to like Miss Cornelia, in spite of uncertain oddities of opinion,

Nobody but Miss Cornelia would have come to make a call arrayed in a striped blueandwhite apron and a

wrapper of chocolate print, with a design of huge, pink roses scattered over it. And nobody but Miss Cornelia

could have looked dignified and suitably garbed in it. Had Miss Cornelia been entering a palace to call on a

prince's bride, she would have been just as dignified and just as wholly mistress of the situation. She would

have trailed her rosespattered flounce over the marble floors just as unconcernedly, and she would have

proceeded just as calmly to disabuse the mind of the princess of any idea that the possession of a mere man,

"I've brought my work, Mrs. Blythe, dearie," she remarked, unrolling some dainty material. "I'm in a hurry to

Anne looked in some surprise at the white garment spread over Miss Cornelia's ample lap. It was certainly a

baby's dress, and it was most beautifully made, with tiny frills and tucks. Miss Cornelia adjusted her glasses

"This is for Mrs. Fred Proctor up at the Glen," she announced. "She's expecting her eighth baby any day now,

and not a stitch has she ready for it. The other seven have wore out all she made for the first, and she's never

had time or strength or spirit to make any more. That woman is a martyr, Mrs. Blythe, believe ME. When she

married Fred Proctor _I_ knew how it would turn out. He was one of your wicked, fascinating men. After he

got married he left off being fascinating and just kept on being wicked. He drinks and he neglects his family.

Isn't that like a man? I don't know how Mrs. Proctor would ever keep her children decently clothed if her

As Anne was afterwards to learn, Miss Cornelia was the only neighbor who troubled herself much about the

"When I heard this eighth baby was coming I decided to make some things for it," Miss Cornelia went on.

"It's certainly very pretty," said Anne. "I'll get my sewing and we'll have a little thimble party of two. You are

"Yes, I'm the best sewer in these parts," said Miss Cornelia in a matteroffact tone. "I ought to be! Lord,

I've done more of it than if I'd had a hundred children of my own, believe ME! I s'pose I'm a fool, to be

putting hand embroidery on this dress for an eighth baby. But, Lord, Mrs. Blythe, dearie, it isn't to blame for

being the eighth, and I kind of wished it to have one real pretty dress, just as if it WAS wanted. Nobody's

wanting the poor miteso I put some extra fuss on its little things just on that account."

"Any baby might be proud of that dress," said Anne, feeling still more strongly that she was going to like

"I s'pose you've been thinking I was never coming to call on you," resumed Miss Cornelia. "But this is

harvest month, you know, and I've been busyand a lot of extra hands hanging round, eating more'n they

work, just like the men. I'd have come yesterday, but I went to Mrs. Roderick MacAllister's funeral. At first I

thought my head was aching so badly I couldn't enjoy myself if I did go. But she was a hundred years old,

"Was it a successful function?" asked Anne, noticing that the office door was ajar.

"What's that? Oh, yes, it was a tremendous funeral. She had a very large connection. There was over one

hundred and twenty carriages in the procession. There was one or two funny things happened. I thought that

die I would to see old Joe Bradshaw, who is an infidel and never darkens the door of a church, singing `Safe

in the Arms of Jesus' with great gusto and fervor. He glories in singing that's why he never misses a

funeral. Poor Mrs. Bradshaw didn't look much like singingall wore out slaving. Old Joe starts out once in a

while to buy her a present and brings home some new kind of farm machinery. Isn't that like a man? But what

else would you expect of a man who never goes to church, even a Methodist one? I was real thankful to see

you and the young Doctor in the Presbyterian church your first Sunday. No doctor for me who isn't a

"Oh, I s'pose Dr. Blythe has to go to the Methodist church once in a while or he wouldn't get the Methodist

"We liked the sermon very much," declared Anne boldly. "And I thought the Methodist minster's prayer was

"Oh, I've no doubt he can pray. I never heard anyone make more beautiful prayers than old Simon Bentley,

who was always drunk, or hoping to be, and the drunker he was the better he prayed."

"The Methodist minister is very fine looking," said Anne, for the benefit of the office door.

"Yes, he's quite ornamental," agreed Miss Cornelia. "Oh, and VERY ladylike. And he thinks that every girl

who looks at him falls in love with himas if a Methodist minister, wandering about like any Jew, was such

a prize! If you and the young doctor take MY advice, you won't have much to do with the Methodists. My

"Don't you think that Methodists go to heaven as well as Presbyterians?" asked Anne smilelessly.

"That isn't for US to decide. It's in higher hands than ours," said Miss Cornelia solemnly. "But I ain't going to

associate with them on earth whatever I may have to do in heaven. THIS Methodist minister isn't married.

The last one they had was, and his wife was the silliest, flightiest little thing I ever saw. I told her husband

once that he should have waited till she was grown up before he married her. He said he wanted to have the

"That's a true word, dearie. Some are grown up when they're born, and others ain't grown up when they're

eighty, believe ME. That same Mrs. Roderick I was speaking of never grew up. She was as foolish when she

"Maybe 'twas. _I_'d rather live fifty sensible years than a hundred foolish ones."

"But just think what a dull world it would be if everyone was sensible," pleaded Anne.

"Mrs. Roderick was a Milgrave, and the Milgraves never had much sense. Her nephew, Ebenezer Milgrave,

used to be insane for years. He believed he was dead and used to rage at his wife because she wouldn't bury

Miss Cornelia looked so grimly determined that Anne could almost see her with a spade in her hand.

"Oh, yes, lots of themover yonder," said Miss Cornelia, waving her hand through the open window

"Oh, there's a few, just to show that with God all things are possible," acknowledged Miss Cornelia

reluctantly. "I don't deny that an odd man here and there, if he's caught young and trained up proper, and if

his mother has spanked him well beforehand, may turn out a decent being. YOUR husband, now, isn't so bad,

as men go, from all I hear. I s'pose"Miss Cornelia looked sharply at Anne over her glasses"you think

"Ah, well, I heard another bride say that once," sighed Miss Cornelia. "Jennie Dean thought when she

married that there wasn't anybody like HER husband in the world. And she was rightthere wasn't! And a

good thing, too, believe ME! He led her an awful lifeand he was courting his second wife while Jennie was

Wasn't that like a man? However, I hope YOUR confidence will be better justified, dearie. The young doctor

is taking real well. I was afraid at first he mightn't, for folks hereabouts have always thought old Doctor Dave

the only doctor in the world. Doctor Dave hadn't much tact, to be surehe was always talking of ropes in

houses where someone had hanged himself. But folks forgot their hurt feelings when they had a pain in their

stomachs. If he'd been a minister instead of a doctor they'd never have forgiven him. Soulache doesn't worry

folks near as much as stomachache. Seeing as we're both Presbyterians and no Methodists around, will you

"Exactly. I agree with you, dearie. We made a mistake when we called HIM. His face just looks like one of

those long, narrow stones in the graveyard, doesn't it? `Sacred to the memory' ought to be written on his

forehead. I shall never forget the first sermon he preached after he came. It was on the subject of everyone

doing what they were best fitted fora very good subject, of course; but such illustrations as he used! He

said, `If you had a cow and an apple tree, and if you tied the apple tree in your stable and planted the cow in

your orchard, with her legs up, how much milk would you get from the apple tree, or how many apples from

the cow?' Did you ever hear the like in your born days, dearie? I was so thankful there were no Methodists

there that daythey'd never have been done hooting over it. But what I dislike most in him is his habit of

agreeing with everybody, no matter what is said. If you said to him, `You're a scoundrel,' he'd say, with that

smooth smile of his, `Yes, that's so.' A minister should have more backbone. The long and the short of it is, I

consider him a reverend jackass. But, of course, this is just between you and me. When there are Methodists

in hearing I praise him to the skies. Some folks think his wife dresses too gay, but _I_ say when she has to

live with a face like that she needs something to cheer her up. You'll never hear ME condemning a woman

for her dress. I'm only too thankful when her husband isn't too mean and miserly to allow it. Not that I bother

much with dress myself. Women just dress to please the men, and I'd never stoop to THAT. I have had a real

placid, comfortable life, dearie, and it's just because I never cared a cent what the men thought."

"Lord, dearie, I don't hate them. They aren't worth it. I just sort of despise them. I think I'll like YOUR

husband if he keeps on as he has begun. But apart from him about the only men in the world I've much use

"Captain Jim is a good man, but he's kind of vexing in one way. You CAN'T make him mad. I've tried for

twenty years and he just keeps on being placid. It does sort of rile me. And I s'pose the woman he should

"Oh, I don't know, dearie. I never remember of Captain Jim making up to anybody. He was edging on old as

far as my memory goes. He's seventysix, you know. I never heard any reason for his staying a bachelor, but

there must be one, believe ME. He sailed all his life till five years ago, and there's no corner of the earth he

hasn't poked his nose into. He and Elizabeth Russell were great cronies, all their lives, but they never had any

notion of sweethearting. Elizabeth never married, though she had plenty of chances. She was a great beauty

when she was young. The year the Prince of Wales came to the Island she was visiting her uncle in

Charlottetown and he was a Government official, and so she got invited to the great ball. She was the prettiest

girl there, and the Prince danced with her, and all the other women he didn't dance with were furious about it,

because their social standing was higher than hers and they said he shouldn't have passed them over.

Elizabeth was always very proud of that dance. Mean folks said that was why she never marriedshe

couldn't put up with an ordinary man after dancing with a prince. But that wasn't so. She told me the reason

onceit was because she had such a temper that she was afraid she couldn't live peaceably with any man.

She HAD an awful tempershe used to have to go upstairs and bite pieces out of her bureau to keep it down

by times. But I told her that wasn't any reason for not marrying if she wanted to. There's no reason why we

"It's well you have, dearie. You won't be half so likely to be trodden on, believe ME! My, how that golden

glow of yours is blooming! Your garden looks fine. Poor Elizabeth always took such care of it."

"I love it," said Anne. "I'm glad it's so full of oldfashioned flowers. Speaking of gardening, we want to get a

man to dig up that little lot beyond the fir grove and set it out with strawberry plants for us. Gilbert is so busy

"Well, Henry Hammond up at the Glen goes out doing jobs like that. He'll do, maybe. He's always a heap

more interested in his wages than in his work, just like a man, and he's so slow in the uptake that he stands

still for five minutes before it dawns on him that he's stopped. His father threw a stump at him when he was

Nice gentle missile, wasn't it? So like a man! Course, the boy never got over it. But he's the only one I can

recommend at all. He painted my house for me last spring. It looks real nice now, don't you think?"

"Lord, is it that late?" exclaimed Miss Cornelia. "How time does slip by when you're enjoying yourself! Well,

"Are you asking me because you think you ought to, or because you really want to?" demanded Miss

"I know we are going to be friends," said Anne, with the smile that only they of the household of faith ever

"Yes, we are, dearie. Thank goodness, we can choose our friends. We have to take our relatives as they are,

and be thankful if there are no penitentiary birds among them. Not that I've many none nearer than second

"I wish you would call me Anne," exclaimed Anne impulsively. "It would seem more HOMEY. Everyone in

Four Winds, except my husband, calls me Mrs. Blythe, and it makes me feel like a stranger. Do you know

that your name is very near being the one I yearned after when I was a child. I hated `Anne' and I called

"I like Anne. It was my mother's name. Oldfashioned names are the best and sweetest in my opinion. If

you're going to get tea you might send the young doctor to talk to me. He's been lying on the sofa in that

"How did you know?" cried Anne, too aghast at this instance of Miss Cornelia's uncanny prescience to make

"I saw him sitting beside you when I came up the lane, and I know men's tricks," retorted Miss Cornelia.

"There, I've finished my little dress, dearie, and the eighth baby can come as soon as it pleases."

It was late September when Anne and Gilbert were able to pay Four Winds light their promised visit. They

had often planned to go, but something always occurred to prevent them. Captain Jim had "dropped in"

"I don't stand on ceremony, Mistress Blythe," he told Anne. "It's a real pleasure to me to come here, and I'm

not going to deny myself jest because you haven't got down to see me. There oughtn't to be no bargaining like

that among the race that knows Joseph. I'll come when I can, and you come when you can, and so long's we

Captain Jim took a great fancy to Gog and Magog, who were presiding over the destinies of the hearth in the

"Aren't they the cutest little cusses?" he would say delightedly; and he bade them greeting and farewell as

gravely and invariably as he did his host and hostess. Captain Jim was not going to offend household deities

"You've made this little house just about perfect," he told Anne. "It never was so nice before. Mistress

Selwyn had your taste and she did wonders; but folks in those days didn't have the pretty little curtains and

pictures and nicknacks you have. As for Elizabeth, she lived in the past. You've kinder brought the future into

it, so to speak. I'd be real happy even if we couldn't talk at all, when I come herejest to sit and look at you

and your pictures and your flowers would be enough of a treat. It's beautifulbeautiful."

Captain Jim was a passionate worshipper of beauty. Every lovely thing heard or seen gave him a deep, subtle,

inner joy that irradiated his life. He was quite keenly aware of his own lack of outward comeliness and

"Folks say I'm good," he remarked whimsically upon one occasion, "but I sometimes wish the Lord had made

me only half as good and put the rest of it into looks. But there, I reckon He knew what He was about, as a

good Captain should. Some of us have to be homely, or the purty oneslike Mistress Blythe herewouldn't

One evening Anne and Gilbert finally walked down to the Four Winds light. The day had begun sombrely in

gray cloud and mist, but it had ended in a pomp of scarlet and gold. Over the western hills beyond the harbor

were amber deeps and crystalline shallows, with the fire of sunset below. The north was a mackerel sky of

little, fiery golden clouds. The red light flamed on the white sails of a vessel gliding down the channel, bound

to a southern port in a land of palms. Beyond her, it smote upon and incarnadined the shining, white,

grassless faces of the sand dunes. To the right, it fell on the old house among the willows up the brook, and

gave it for a fleeting space casements more splendid than those of an old cathedral. They glowed out of its

quiet and grayness like the throbbing, bloodred thoughts of a vivid soul imprisoned in a dull husk of

"That old house up the brook always seems so lonely," said Anne. "I never see visitors there. Of course, its

lane opens on the upper roadbut I don't think there's much coming and going. It seems odd we've never

met the Moores yet, when they live within fifteen minutes' walk of us. I may have seen them in church, of

course, but if so I didn't know them. I'm sorry they are so unsociable, when they are our only near neighbors."

"Evidently they don't belong to the race that knows Joseph," laughed Gilbert. "Have you ever found out who

"No. Somehow I have never remembered to ask about her. But I've never seen her anywhere, so I suppose she

As the dusk deepened, the great beacon cut swathes of light through it, sweeping in a circle over the fields

"I feel as if it might catch me and whisk me leagues out to sea," said Anne, as one drenched them with

radiance; and she felt rather relieved when they got so near the Point that they were inside the range of those

As they turned into the little lane that led across the fields to the Point they met a man coming out of ita

man of such extraordinary appearance that for a moment they both frankly stared. He was a decidedly

finelooking persontall, broadshouldered, well featured, with a Roman nose and frank gray eyes; he was

dressed in a prosperous farmer's Sunday best; in so far he might have been any inhabitant of Four Winds or

the Glen. But, flowing over his breast nearly to his knees, was a river of crinkly brown beard; and adown his

back, beneath his commonplace felt hat, was a corresponding cascade of thick, wavy, brown hair.

"Anne," murmured Gilbert, when they were out of earshot, "you didn't put what Uncle Dave calls `a little of

"No, I didn't," said Anne, stifling her laughter, lest the retreating enigma should hear here. "Who in the world

"I don't know; but if Captain Jim keeps apparitions like that down at this Point I'm going to carry cold iron in

my pocket when I come here. He wasn't a sailor, or one might pardon his eccentricity of appearance; he must

belong to the overharbor clans. Uncle Dave says they have several freaks over there."

"Uncle Dave is a little prejudiced, I think. You know all the overharbor people who come to the Glen

The Four Winds light was built on a spur of red sandstone cliff jutting out into the gulf. On one side, across

the channel, stretched the silvery sand shore of the bar; on the other, extended a long, curving beach of red

cliffs, rising steeply from the pebbled coves. It was a shore that knew the magic and mystery of storm and

star. There is a great solitude about such a shore. The woods are never solitary they are full of whispering,

beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow,

which shuts it up into itself for all eternity. We can never pierce its infinite mysterywe may only wander,

awed and spellbound, on the outer fringe of it. The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has

one onlya mighty voice that drowns our souls in its majestic music. The woods are human, but the sea is of

Anne and Gilbert found Uncle Jim sitting on a bench outside the lighthouse, putting the finishing touches to a

wonderful, fullrigged, toy schooner. He rose and welcomed them to his abode with the gentle, unconscious

"This has been a purty nice day all through, Mistress Blythe, and now, right at the last, it's brought its best.

Would you like to sit down here outside a bit, while the light lasts? I've just finished this bit of a plaything for

my little grand nephew, Joe, up at the Glen. After I promised to make it for him I was kinder sorry, for his

mother was vexed. She's afraid he'll be wanting to go to sea later on and she doesn't want the notion

encouraged in him. But what could I do, Mistress Blythe? I'd PROMISED him, and I think it's sorter real

dastardly to break a promise you make to a child. Come, sit down. It won't take long to stay an hour."

The wind was off shore, and only broke the sea's surface into long, silvery ripples, and sent sheeny shadows

flying out across it, from every point and headland, like transparent wings. The dusk was hanging a curtain of

violet gloom over the sand dunes and the headlands where gulls were huddling. The sky was faintly filmed

over with scarfs of silken vapor. Cloud fleets rode at anchor along the horizons. An evening star was

"Isn't that a view worth looking at?" said Captain Jim, with a loving, proprietary pride. "Nice and far from the

marketplace, ain't it? No buying and selling and getting gain. You don't have to pay anythingall that sea

and sky free`without money and without price.' There's going to be a moonrise purty soon, tooI'm never

tired of finding out what a moonrise can be over them rocks and sea and harbor. There's a surprise in it every

They had their moonrise, and watched its marvel and magic in a silence that asked nothing of the world or

each other. Then they went up into the tower, and Captain Jim showed and explained the mechanism of the

great light. Finally they found themselves in the dining room, where a fire of driftwood was weaving flames

"I put this fireplace in myself," remarked Captain Jim. "The Government don't give lighthouse keepers such

luxuries. Look at the colors that wood makes. If you'd like some driftwood for your fire, Mistress Blythe, I'll

Captain Jim placed a chair for Anne, having first removed therefrom a huge, orangecolored cat and a

"Get down, Matey. The sofa is your place. I must put this paper away safe till I can find time to finish the

story in it. It's called A Mad Love. 'Tisn't my favorite brand of fiction, but I'm reading it jest to see how long

she can spin it out. It's at the sixtysecond chapter now, and the wedding ain't any nearer than when it begun,

far's I can see. When little Joe comes I have to read him pirate yarns. Ain't it strange how innocent little

Captain Jim's tea proved to be nectar. He was pleased as a child with Anne's compliments, but he affected a

"The secret is I don't skimp the cream," he remarked airily. Captain Jim had never heard of Oliver Wendell

Holmes, but he evidently agreed with that writer's dictum that "big heart never liked little cream pot."

"We met an oddlooking personage coming out of your lane," said Gilbert as they sipped. "Who was he?"

"That's Marshall Elliotta mighty fine man with jest one streak of foolishness in him. I s'pose you wondered

"Is he a modern Nazarite or a Hebrew prophet left over from olden times?" asked Anne.

"Neither of them. It's politics that's at the bottom of his freak. All those Elliotts and Crawfords and

MacAllisters are dyedinthewool politicians. They're born Grit or Tory, as the case may be, and they live

Grit or Tory, and they die Grit or Tory; and what they're going to do in heaven, where there's probably no

politics, is more than I can fathom. This Marshall Elliott was born a Grit. I'm a Grit myself in moderation, but

there's no moderation about Marshall. Fifteen years ago there was a specially bitter general election. Marshall

fought for his party tooth and nail. He was dead sure the Liberals would winso sure that he got up at a

public meeting and vowed that he wouldn't shave his face or cut his hair until the Grits were in power. Well,

they didn't go inand they've never got in yetand you saw the result today for yourselves. Marshall stuck

"He's a bachelor. But if he had a wife I reckon she couldn't make him break that vow. That family of Elliotts

has always been more stubborn than natteral. Marshall's brother Alexander had a dog he set great store by,

and when it died the man actilly wanted to have it buried in the graveyard, `along with the other Christians,'

he said. Course, he wasn't allowed to; so he buried it just outside the graveyard fence, and never darkened the

church door again. But Sundays he'd drive his family to church and sit by that dog's grave and read his Bible

all the time service was going on. They say when he was dying he asked his wife to bury him beside the dog;

she was a meek little soul but she fired up at THAT. She said SHE wasn't going to be buried beside no dog,

and if he'd rather have his last resting place beside the dog than beside her, jest to say so. Alexander Elliott

was a stubborn mule, but he was fond of his wife, so he give in and said, `Well, durn it, bury me where you

please. But when Gabriel's trump blows I expect my dog to rise with the rest of us, for he had as much soul as

any durned Elliott or Crawford or MacAllister that ever strutted.' Them was HIS parting words. As for

Marshall, we're all used to him, but he must strike strangers as right down peculiar looking. I've known him

ever since he was tenhe's about fifty nowand I like him. Him and me was out codfishing today. That's

about all I'm good for nowcatching trout and cod occasional. But 'tweren't always sonot by no manner

Anne was just going to ask what his lifebook was when the First Mate created a diversion by springing upon

Captain Jim's knee. He was a gorgeous beastie, with a face as round as a full moon, vivid green eyes, and

"I never fancied cats much till I found the First Mate," he remarked, to the accompaniment of the Mate's

tremendous purrs. "I saved his life, and when you've saved a creature's life you're bound to love it. It's next

thing to giving life. There's some turrible thoughtless people in the world, Mistress Blythe. Some of them city

folks who have summer homes over the harbor are so thoughtless that they're cruel. It's the worst kind of

crueltythe thoughtless kind. You can't cope with it. They keep cats there in the summer, and feed and pet

'em, and doll 'em up with ribbons and collars. And then in the fall they go off and leave 'em to starve or

freeze. It makes my blood boil, Mistress Blythe. One day last winter I found a poor old mother cat dead on

the shore, lying against the skinandbone bodies of her three little kittens. She'd died trying to shelter 'em.

She had her poor stiff paws around 'em. Master, I cried. Then I swore. Then I carried them poor little kittens

home and fed 'em up and found good homes for 'em. I knew the woman who left the cat and when she come

back this summer I jest went over the harbor and told her my opinion of her. It was rank meddling, but I do

"Cried and said she `didn't think.' I says to her, says I, `Do you s'pose that'll be held for a good excuse in the

day of Jedgment, when you'll have to account for that poor old mother's life? The Lord'll ask you what He

give you your brains for if it wasn't to think, I reckon.' I don't fancy she'll leave cats to starve another time."

"Was the First Mate one of the forsaken?" asked Anne, making advances to him which were responded to

"Yes. I found HIM one bitter cold day in winter, caught in the branches of a tree by his durnfool ribbon

collar. He was almost starving. If you could have seen his eyes, Mistress Blythe! He was nothing but a kitten,

and he'd got his living somehow since he'd been left until he got hung up. When I loosed him he gave my

hand a pitiful swipe with his little red tongue. He wasn't the able seaman you see now. He was meek as

Moses. That was nine years ago. His life has been long in the land for a cat. He's a good old pal, the First

"I had a dog once. I thought so much of him that when he died I couldn't bear the thought of getting another

in his place. He was a FRIENDyou understand, Mistress Blythe? Matey's only a pal. I'm fond of

Mateyall the fonder on account of the spice of devilment that's in himlike there is in all cats. But I

LOVED my dog. I always had a sneaking sympathy for Alexander Elliott about HIS dog. There isn't any

devil in a good dog. That's why they're more lovable than cats, I reckon. But I'm darned if they're as

interesting. Here I am, talking too much. Why don't you check me? When I do get a chance to talk to anyone

I run on turrible. If you've done your tea I've a few little things you might like to look atpicked 'em up in

Captain Jim's "few little things" turned out to be a most interesting collection of curios, hideous, quaint and

Anne never forgot the delight with which she listened to those old tales that moonlit evening by that

enchanted driftwood fire, while the silver sea called to them through the open window and sobbed against the

Captain Jim never said a boastful word, but it was impossible to help seeing what a hero the man had

beenbrave, true, resourceful, unselfish. He sat there in his little room and made those things live again for

his hearers. By a lift of the eyebrow, a twist of the lip, a gesture, a word, he painted a whole scene or

Some of Captain Jim's adventures had such a marvellous edge that Anne and Gilbert secretly wondered if he

were not drawing a rather long bow at their credulous expense. But in this, as they found later, they did him

injustice. His tales were all literally true. Captain Jim had the gift of the born storyteller, whereby "unhappy,

faroff things" can be brought vividly before the hearer in all their pristine poignancy.

Anne and Gilbert laughed and shivered over his tales, and once Anne found herself crying. Captain Jim

"I like to see folks cry that way," he remarked. "It's a compliment. But I can't do justice to the things I've seen

or helped to do. I've 'em all jotted down in my lifebook, but I haven't got the knack of writing them out

properly. If I could hit on jest the right words and string 'em together proper on paper I could make a great

book. It would beat A Mad Love holler, and I believe Joe'd like it as well as the pirate yarns. Yes, I've had

some adventures in my time; and, do you know, Mistress Blythe, I still lust after 'em. Yes, old and useless as

I be, there's an awful longing sweeps over me at times to sail outoutout thereforever and ever."

"Ulysses? I've read of him. Yes, that's just how I feeljest how all us old sailors feel, I reckon. I'll die on

land after all, I s'pose. Well, what is to be will be. There was old William Ford at the Glen who never went on

the water in his life, 'cause he was afraid of being drowned. A fortuneteller had predicted he would be. And

one day he fainted and fell with his face in the barn trough and was drowned. Must you go? Well, come soon

and come often. The doctor is to do the talking next time. He knows a heap of things I want to find out. I'm

sorter lonesome here by times. It's been worse since Elizabeth Russell died. Her and me was such cronies."

Captain Jim spoke with the pathos of the aged, who see their old friends slipping from them one by

onefriends whose place can never be quite filled by those of a younger generation, even of the race that

"Somehow, I can't reconcile his simple, kindly personality with the wild, adventurous life he has lived,"

"You wouldn't find it so hard if you had seen him the other day down at the fishing village. One of the men of

Peter Gautier's boat made a nasty remark about some girl along the shore. Captain Jim fairly scorched the

wretched fellow with the lightning of his eyes. He seemed a man transformed. He didn't say muchbut the

way he said it! You'd have thought it would strip the flesh from the fellow's bones. I understand that Captain

"I wonder why he never married," said Anne. "He should have sons with their ships at sea now, and

grandchildren climbing over him to hear his storieshe's that kind of a man. Instead, he has nothing but a

"I'm going for a walk to the outside shore tonight," Anne told Gog and Magog one October evening. There

was no one else to tell, for Gilbert had gone over the harbor. Anne had her little domain in the speckless order

one would expect of anyone brought up by Marilla Cuthbert, and felt that she could gad shoreward with a

clear conscience. Many and delightful had been her shore rambles, sometimes with Gilbert, sometimes with

Captain Jim, sometimes alone with her own thoughts and new, poignantlysweet dreams that were beginning

to span life with their rainbows. She loved the gentle, misty harbor shore and the silvery, windhaunted sand

shore, but best of all she loved the rock shore, with its cliffs and caves and piles of surfworn boulders, and

its coves where the pebbles glittered under the pools; and it was to this shore she hied herself tonight.

There had been an autumn storm of wind and rain, lasting for three days. Thunderous had been the crash of

billows on the rocks, wild the white spray and spume that blew over the bar, troubled and misty and

tempesttorn the erstwhile blue peace of Four Winds Harbor. Now it was over, and the shore lay

cleanwashed after the storm; not a wind stirred, but there was still a fine surf on, dashing on sand and rock

in a splendid white turmoilthe only restless thing in the great, pervading stillness and peace.

"Oh, this is a moment worth living through weeks of storm and stress for," Anne exclaimed, delightedly

sending her far gaze across the tossing waters from the top of the cliff where she stood. Presently she

scrambled down the steep path to the little cove below, where she seemed shut in with rocks and sea and sky.

"I'm going to dance and sing," she said. "There's no one here to see methe seagulls won't carry tales of the

She caught up her skirt and pirouetted along the hard strip of sand just out of reach of the waves that almost

lapped her feet with their spent foam. Whirling round and round, laughing like a child, she reached the little

headland that ran out to the east of the cove; then she stopped suddenly, blushing crimson; she was not alone;

The girl of the golden hair and seablue eyes was sitting on a boulder of the headland, halfhidden by a

jutting rock. She was looking straight at Anne with a strange expressionpart wonder, part sympathy,

partcould it be?envy. She was bareheaded, and her splendid hair, more than ever like Browning's

"gorgeous snake," was bound about her head with a crimson ribbon. She wore a dress of some dark material,

very plainly made; but swathed about her waist, outlining its fine curves, was a vivid girdle of red silk. Her

hands, clasped over her knee, were brown and somewhat work hardened; but the skin of her throat and

cheeks was as white as cream. A flying gleam of sunset broke through a lowlying western cloud and fell

across her hair. For a moment she seemed the spirit of the sea personifiedall its mystery, all its passion, all

"Youyou must think me crazy," stammered Anne, trying to recover her selfpossession. To be seen by this

stately girl in such an abandon of childishnessshe, Mrs. Dr. Blythe, with all the dignity of the matron to

She said nothing more; her voice was expressionless; her manner slightly repellent; but there was something

in her eyeseager yet shy, defiant yet pleadingwhich turned Anne from her purpose of walking away.

"Let's introduce ourselves," she said, with the smile that had never yet failed to win confidence and

friendliness. "I am Mrs. Blytheand I live in that little white house up the harbor shore."

"Yes, I know," said the girl. "I am Leslie MooreMrs. Dick Moore," she added stiffly.

Anne was silent for a moment from sheer amazement. It had not occurred to her that this girl was

marriedthere seemed nothing of the wife about her. And that she should be the neighbor whom Anne had

pictured as a commonplace Four Winds housewife! Anne could not quickly adjust her mental focus to this

"Yes. I should have gone over to call on you long ago," said the other. She did not offer any explanation or

"I wish you WOULD come," said Anne, recovering herself somewhat. "We're such near neighbors we ought

to be friends. That is the sole fault of Four Windsthere aren't quite enough neighbors. Otherwise it is

"I've never seen many places," said Leslie Moore, slowly, "but I've always thought it was very lovely here.

She spoke, as she looked, shyly, yet eagerly. Anne had an odd impression that this strange girlthe word

"Probably you come earlier in the evening than I do. It is generally latealmost darkwhen I come. And I

love to come just after a stormlike this. I don't like the sea so well when it's calm and quiet. I like the

"I love it in all its moods," declared Anne. "The sea at Four Winds is to me what Lover's Lane was at home.

Tonight it seemed so freeso untamedsomething broke loose in me, too, out of sympathy. That was why

I danced along the shore in that wild way. I didn't suppose anybody was looking, of course. If Miss Cornelia

Bryant had seen me she would have forboded a gloomy prospect for poor young Dr. Blythe."

"You know Miss Cornelia?" said Leslie, laughing. She had an exquisite laugh; it bubbled up suddenly and

unexpectedly with something of the delicious quality of a baby's. Anne laughed, too.

"Oh, that's a dear, foolish little name Gilbert and I have for our home. We just call it that between ourselves.

"So Miss Russell's little white house is YOUR house of dreams," said Leslie wonderingly. "_I_ had a house

of dreams oncebut it was a palace," she added, with a laugh, the sweetness of which was marred by a little

"Oh, I once dreamed of a palace, too," said Anne. "I suppose all girls do. And then we settle down

contentedly in eightroom houses that seem to fulfill all the desires of our heartsbecause our prince is

there. YOU should have had your palace really, thoughyou are so beautiful. You MUST let me say itit

has to be saidI'm nearly bursting with admiration. You are the loveliest thing I ever saw, Mrs. Moore."

"If we are to be friends you must call me Leslie," said the other with an odd passion.

"I suppose I am beautiful," Leslie went on, looking stormily out to sea. "I hate my beauty. I wish I had always

been as brown and plain as the brownest and plainest girl at the fishing village over there. Well, what do you

"Miss Cornelia is a darling, isn't she?" said Anne. "Gilbert and I were invited to her house to a state tea last

"I seem to recall seeing the expression in the newspaper reports of weddings," said Leslie, smiling.

"Well, Miss Cornelia's groanedat least, it creakedpositively. You couldn't have believed she would have

cooked so much for two ordinary people. She had every kind of pie you could name, I thinkexcept lemon

pie. She said she had taken the prize for lemon pies at the Charlottetown Exhibition ten years ago and had

"_I_ wasn't. Gilbert won her heart by eatingI won't tell you how much. She said she never knew a man

Anne wondered secretly why, if this were so, Miss Cornelia had never mentioned Mrs. Dick Moore to her.

Miss Cornelia had certainly talked freely about every other individual in or near Four Winds.

"Isn't that beautiful?" said Leslie, after a brief silence, pointing to the exquisite effect of a shaft of light falling

through a cleft in the rock behind them, across a dark green pool at its base. "If I had come hereand seen

"The effects of light and shadow all along these shores are wonderful," agreed Anne. "My little sewing room

looks out on the harbor, and I sit at its window and feast my eyes. The colors and shadows are never the same

"No. I don't think I've ever been really lonely in my life," answered Anne. "Even when I'm alone I have real

good company dreams and imaginations and pretendings. I LIKE to be alone now and then, just to think

over things and TASTE them. But I love friendship and nice, jolly little times with people. Oh, WON'T

you come to see meoften? Please do. I believe," Anne added, laughing, "that you'd like me if you knew

"I wonder if YOU would like ME," said Leslie seriously. She was not fishing for a compliment. She looked

out across the waves that were beginning to be garlanded with blossoms of moonlit foam, and her eyes filled

"I'm sure I would," said Anne. "And please don't think I'm utterly irresponsible because you saw me dancing

on the shore at sunset. No doubt I shall be dignified after a time. You see, I haven't been married very long. I

"Why, you can't be as old as I am!" exclaimed Anne. "You must have been a child when you were married."

"I was sixteen," said Leslie, rising, and picking up the cap and jacket lying beside her. "I am twentyeight

"So must I. Gilbert will probably be home. But I'm so glad we both came to the shore tonight and met each

Leslie said nothing, and Anne was a little chilled. She had offered friendship frankly but it had not been

accepted very graciously, if it had not been absolutely repelled. In silence they climbed the cliffs and walked

across a pasturefield of which the feathery, bleached, wild grasses were like a carpet of creamy velvet in the

"I go this way, Mrs. Blythe. You will come over and see me some time, won't you?"

Anne felt as if the invitation had been thrown at her. She got the impression that Leslie Moore gave it

"Oh, I doI do," exclaimed Leslie, with an eagerness which seemed to burst forth and beat down some

"So Mrs. Dick Moore isn't one of the race that knows Joseph?" said Gilbert teasingly.

"Nooo, not exactly. And yetI think she WAS one of them once, but has gone or got into exile," said

Anne musingly. "She is certainly very different from the other women about here. You can't talk about eggs

and butter to HER. To think I've been imagining her a second Mrs. Rachel Lynde! Have you ever seen Dick

"No. I've seen several men working about the fields of the farm, but I don't know which was Moore."

"From what you tell me I suppose she was married before she was old enough to know her own mind or

heart, and found out too late that she had made a mistake. It's a common tragedy enough, Anne.

A fine woman would have made the best of it. Mrs. Moore has evidently let it make her bitter and resentful."

"Don't let us judge her till we know," pleaded Anne. "I don't believe her case is so ordinary. You will

understand her fascination when you meet her, Gilbert. It is a thing quite apart from her beauty. I feel that she

possesses a rich nature, into which a friend might enter as into a kingdom; but for some reason she bars every

one out and shuts all her possibilities up in herself, so that they cannot develop and blossom. There, I've been

struggling to define her to myself ever since I left her, and that is the nearest I can get to it. I'm going to ask

"Yes, the eighth baby arrived a fortnight ago," said Miss Cornelia, from a rocker before the fire of the little

house one chilly October afternoon. "It's a girl. Fred was ranting madsaid he wanted a boywhen the

truth is he didn't want it at all. If it had been a boy he'd have ranted because it wasn't a girl. They had four

girls and three boys before, so I can't see that it made much difference what this one was, but of course he'd

have to be cantankerous, just like a man. The baby is real pretty, dressed up in its nice little clothes. It has

"I must go and see it. I just love babies," said Anne, smiling to herself over a thought too dear and sacred to

"I don't say but what they're nice," admitted Miss Cornelia. "But some folks seem to have more than they

really need, believe ME. My poor cousin Flora up at the Glen had eleven, and such a slave as she is! Her

"Couldn't get his way over something, so he jumped into the well . A good riddance! He was a born tyrant.

But of course it spoiled the well. Flora could never abide the thought of using it again, poor thing! So she had

another dug and a frightful expense it was, and the water as hard as nails. If he HAD to drown himself there

was plenty of water in the harbor, wasn't there? I've no patience with a man like that. We've only had two

suicides in Four Winds in my recollection. The other was Frank WestLeslie Moore's father. By the way,

"No, but I met her on the shore a few nights ago and we scraped an acquaintance," said Anne, pricking up her

"I'm glad, dearie. I was hoping you'd foregather with her. What do you think of her?"

"Oh, of course. There was never anybody about Four Winds could touch her for looks. Did you ever see her

hair? It reaches to her feet when she lets it down. But I meant how did you like her?"

"But she wouldn't let youshe pushed you off and kept you at arm's length. Poor Leslie! You wouldn't be

much surprised if you knew what her life has been. It's been a tragedya tragedy!" repeated Miss Cornelia

"I wish you would tell me all about herthat is, if you can do so without betraying any confidence."

"Lord, dearie, everybody in Four Winds knows poor Leslie's story. It's no secretthe OUTSIDE, that is.

Nobody knows the INSIDE but Leslie herself, and she doesn't take folks into her confidence. I'm about the

best friend she has on earth, I reckon, and she's never uttered a word of complaint to me. Have you ever seen

"Well, I may as well begin at the beginning and tell you everything straight through, so you'll understand it.

As I said, Leslie's father was Frank West. He was clever and shiftlessjust like a man. Oh, he had heaps of

brainsand much good they did him! He started to go to college, and he went for two years, and then his

health broke down. The Wests were all inclined to be consumptive. So Frank came home and started farming.

He married Rose Elliott from over harbor. Rose was reckoned the beauty of Four WindsLeslie takes her

looks from her mother, but she has ten times the spirit and go that Rose had, and a far better figure. Now you

know, Anne, I always take the ground that us women ought to stand by each other. We've got enough to

endure at the hands of the men, the Lord knows, so I hold we hadn't ought to clapperclaw one another, and it

isn't often you'll find me running down another woman. But I never had much use for Rose Elliott. She was

spoiled to begin with, believe ME, and she was nothing but a lazy, selfish, whining creature. Frank was no

hand to work, so they were poor as Job's turkey. Poor! They lived on potatoes and point, believe ME. They

had two childrenLeslie and Kenneth. Leslie had her mother's looks and her father's brains, and something

she didn't get from either of them. She took after her Grandmother Westa splendid old lady. She was the

brightest, friendliest, merriest thing when she was a child, Anne. Everybody liked her. She was her father's

favorite and she was awful fond of him. They were `chums,' as she used to say. She couldn't see any of his

"Well, when Leslie was twelve years old, the first dreadful thing happened. She worshipped little

Kennethhe was four years younger than her, and he WAS a dear little chap. And he was killed one

dayfell off a big load of hay just as it was going into the barn, and the wheel went right over his little body

and crushed the life out of it. And mind you, Anne, Leslie saw it. She was looking down from the loft. She

gave one screechthe hired man said he never heard such a sound in all his lifehe said it would ring in his

ears till Gabriel's trump drove it out. But she never screeched or cried again about it. She jumped from the

loft onto the load and from the load to the floor, and caught up the little bleeding, warm, dead body,

Annethey had to tear it from her before she would let it go. They sent for meI can't talk of it."

Miss Cornelia wiped the tears from her kindly brown eyes and sewed in bitter silence for a few minutes.

"Well," she resumed, "it was all overthey buried little Kenneth in that graveyard over the harbor, and after

a while Leslie went back to her school and her studies. She never mentioned Kenneth's nameI've never

heard it cross her lips from that day to this. I reckon that old hurt still aches and burns at times; but she was

only a child and time is real kind to children, Anne, dearie. After a while she began to laugh againshe had

"Frank West began to go down after Kenneth's death. He wasn't strong and it was a shock to him, because he

was real fond of the child, though, as I've said, Leslie was his favorite. He got mopy and melancholy, and

couldn't or wouldn't work. And one day, when Leslie was fourteen years of age, he hanged himselfand in

the parlor, too, mind you, Anne, right in the middle of the parlor from the lamp hook in the ceiling. Wasn't

that like a man? It was the anniversary of his wedding day, too. Nice, tasty time to pick for it, wasn't it? And,

of course, that poor Leslie had to be the one to find him. She went into the parlor that morning, singing, with

some fresh flowers for the vases, and there she saw her father hanging from the ceiling, his face as black as a

"Leslie didn't cry at her father's funeral any more then she had cried at Kenneth's. Rose whooped and howled

for two, however, and Leslie had all she could do trying to calm and comfort her mother. I was disgusted with

Rose and so was everyone else, but Leslie never got out of patience. She loved her mother. Leslie is

clannishher own could never do wrong in her eyes. Well, they buried Frank West beside Kenneth, and

Rose put up a great big monument to him. It was bigger than his character, believe ME! Anyhow, it was

bigger than Rose could afford, for the farm was mortgaged for more than its value. But not long after Leslie's

old grandmother West died and she left Leslie a little moneyenough to give her a year at Queen's

Academy. Leslie had made up her mind to pass for a teacher if she could, and then earn enough to put herself

through Redmond College. That had been her father's pet schemehe wanted her to have what he had lost.

Leslie was full of ambition and her head was chock full of brains. She went to Queen's, and she took two

years' work in one year and got her First; and when she came home she got the Glen school. She was so

happy and hopeful and full of life and eagerness. When I think of what she was then and what she is now, I

Miss Cornelia snipped her thread off as viciously as if, Nerolike, she was severing the neck of mankind by

"Dick Moore came into her life that summer. His father, Abner Moore, kept store at the Glen, but Dick had a

seagoing streak in him from his mother; he used to sail in summer and clerk in his father's store in winter.

He was a big, handsome fellow, with a little ugly soul. He was always wanting something till he got it, and

then he stopped wanting itjust like a man. Oh, he didn't growl at the weather when it was fine, and he was

mostly real pleasant and agreeable when everything went right. But he drank a good deal, and there were

some nasty stories told of him and a girl down at the fishing village. He wasn't fit for Leslie to wipe her feet

on, that's the long and short of it. And he was a Methodist! But he was clean mad about herbecause of her

good looks in the first place, and because she wouldn't have anything to say to him in the second. He vowed

"Oh, it was an iniquitous thing! I'll never forgive Rose West. You see, dearie, Abner Moore held the

mortgage on the West farm, and the interest was overdue some years, and Dick just went and told Mrs. West

that if Leslie wouldn't marry him he'd get his father to foreclose the mortgage. Rose carried on

terriblefainted and wept, and pleaded with Leslie not to let her be turned out of her home. She said it

would break her heart to leave the home she'd come to as a bride. I wouldn't have blamed her for feeling

dreadful bad over itbut you wouldn't have thought she'd be so selfish as to sacrifice her own flesh and

And Leslie gave inshe loved her mother so much she would have done anything to save her pain. She

married Dick Moore. None of us knew why at the time. It wasn't till long afterward that I found out how her

mother had worried her into it. I was sure there was something wrong, though, because I knew how she had

snubbed him time and again, and it wasn't like Leslie to turn faceabout like that. Besides, I knew that Dick

Moore wasn't the kind of man Leslie could ever fancy, in spite of his good looks and dashing ways. Of

course, there was no wedding, but Rose asked me to go and see them married. I went, but I was sorry I did.

I'd seen Leslie's face at her brother's funeral and at her father's funeraland now it seemed to me I was

seeing it at her own funeral. But Rose was smiling as a basket of chips, believe ME!

"Leslie and Dick settled down on the West placeRose couldn't bear to part with her dear daughter!and

lived there for the winter. In the spring Rose took pneumonia and dieda year too late! Leslie was

heartbroken enough over it. Isn't it terrible the way some unworthy folks are loved, while others that deserve

it far more, you'd think, never get much affection? As for Dick, he'd had enough of quiet married lifejust

like a man. He was for up and off. He went over to Nova Scotia to visit his relationshis father had come

from Nova Scotiaand he wrote back to Leslie that his cousin, George Moore, was going on a voyage to

Havana and he was going too. The name of the vessel was the Four Sisters and they were to be gone about

"It must have been a relief to Leslie. But she never said anything. From the day of her marriage she was just

what she is nowcold and proud, and keeping everyone but me at a distance. I won't BE kept at a distance,

believe ME! I've just stuck to Leslie as close as I knew how in spite of everything."

"Did she?" exclaimed Miss Cornelia delightedly. "Well, I'm real thankful to hear it. Sometimes I've wondered

if she really did want me around at allshe never let me think so. You must have thawed her out more than

you think, or she wouldn't have said that much itself to you. Oh, that poor, heartbroken girl! I never see

Miss Cornelia wiped her eyes again and having relieved her feelings by her bloodthirsty wish, took up her

"Well, Leslie was left over there alone. Dick had put in the crop before he went, and old Abner looked after

it. The summer went by and the Four Sisters didn't come back. The Nova Scotia Moores investigated, and

found she had got to Havana and discharged her cargo and took on another and left for home; and that was all

they ever found out about her. By degrees people began to talk of Dick Moore as one that was dead. Almost

everyone believed that he was, though no one felt certain, for men have turned up here at the harbor after

they'd been gone for years. Leslie never thought he was deadand she was right. A thousand pities too! The

next summer Captain Jim was in Havanathat was before he gave up the sea, of course. He thought he'd

poke round a bitCaptain Jim was always meddlesome, just like a manand he went to inquiring round

among the sailors' boarding houses and places like that, to see if he could find out anything about the crew of

the Four Sisters. He'd better have let sleeping dogs lie, in my opinion! Well, he went to one outoftheway

place, and there he found a man he knew at first sight it was Dick Moore, though he had a big beard. Captain

Jim got it shaved off and then there was no doubtDick Moore it washis body at least. His mind wasn't

"Nobody knows the rights of it. All the folks who kept the boarding house could tell was that about a year

before they had found him lying on their doorstep one morning in an awful conditionhis head battered to a

jelly almost. They supposed he'd got hurt in some drunken row, and likely that's the truth of it. They took him

in, never thinking he could live. But he didand he was just like a child when he got well. He hadn't

memory or intellect or reason. They tried to find out who he was but they never could. He couldn't even tell

them his namehe could only say a few simple words. He had a letter on him beginning `Dear Dick' and

signed `Leslie,' but there was no address on it and the envelope was gone. They let him stay onhe learned

to do a few odd jobs about the placeand there Captain Jim found him. He brought him home I've always

said it was a bad day's work, though I s'pose there was nothing else he could do. He thought maybe when

Dick got home and saw his old surroundings and familiar faces his memory would wake up. But it hadn't any

effect. There he's been at the house up the brook ever since. He's just like a child, no more nor less. Takes

fractious spells occasionally, but mostly he's just vacant and good humored and harmless. He's apt to run

away if he isn't watched. That's the burden Leslie has had to carry for eleven yearsand all alone. Old Abner

Moore died soon after Dick was brought home and it was found he was almost bankrupt. When things were

settled up there was nothing for Leslie and Dick but the old West farm. Leslie rented it to John Ward, and the

rent is all she has to live on. Sometimes in summer she takes a boarder to help out. But most visitors prefer

the other side of the harbor where the hotels and summer cottages are. Leslie's house is too far from the

bathing shore. She's taken care of Dick and she's never been away from him for eleven yearsshe's tied to

that imbecile for life. And after all the dreams and hopes she once had! You can imagine what it has been like

for her, Anne, deariewith her beauty and spirit and pride and cleverness. It's just been a living death."

"Poor, poor girl!" said Anne again. Her own happiness seemed to reproach her. What right had she to be so

"Will you tell me just what Leslie said and how she acted the night you met her on the shore?" asked Miss

"YOU thought she was stiff and cold, Anne, dearie, but I can tell you she thawed out wonderful for her. She

must have taken to you real strong. I'm so glad. You may be able to help her a good deal. I was thankful when

I heard that a young couple was coming to this house, for I hoped it would mean some friends for Leslie;

especially if you belonged to the race that knows Joseph. You WILL be her friend, won't you, Anne, dearie?"

"Indeed I will, if she'll let me," said Anne, with all her own sweet, impulsive earnestness.

"No, you must be her friend, whether she'll let you or not," said Miss Cornelia resolutely. "Don't you mind if

she's stiff by times don't notice it. Remember what her life has beenand isand must always be, I

suppose, for creatures like Dick Moore live forever, I understand. You should see how fat he's got since he

came home. He used to be lean enough. Just MAKE her be friendsyou can do ityou're one of those who

have the knack. Only you mustn't be sensitive. And don't mind if she doesn't seem to want you to go over

there much. She knows that some women don't like to be where Dick isthey complain he gives them the

creeps. Just get her to come over here as often as she can. She can't get away so very muchshe can't leave

Dick long, for the Lord knows what he'd doburn the house down most likely. At nights, after he's in bed

and asleep, is about the only time she's free. He always goes to bed early and sleeps like the dead till next

morning. That is how you came to meet her at the shore likely. She wanders there considerable."

"I will do everything I can for her," said Anne. Her interest in Leslie Moore, which had been vivid ever since

she had seen her driving her geese down the hill, was intensified a thousand fold by Miss Cornelia's narration.

The girl's beauty and sorrow and loneliness drew her with an irresistible fascination. She had never known

anyone like her; her friends had hitherto been wholesome, normal, merry girls like herself, with only the

average trials of human care and bereavement to shadow their girlish dreams. Leslie Moore stood apart, a

tragic, appealing figure of thwarted womanhood. Anne resolved that she would win entrance into the

kingdom of that lonely soul and find there the comradeship it could so richly give, were it not for the cruel

"And mind you this, Anne, dearie," said Miss Cornelia, who had not yet wholly relieved her mind, "You

mustn't think Leslie is an infidel because she hardly ever goes to churchor even that she's a Methodist. She

can't take Dick to church, of coursenot that he ever troubled church much in his best days. But you just

Leslie came over to the house of dreams one frosty October night, when moonlit mists were hanging over the

harbor and curling like silver ribbons along the seaward glens. She looked as if she repented coming when

Gilbert answered her knock; but Anne flew past him, pounced on her, and drew her in.

"I'm so glad you picked tonight for a call," she said gaily. "I made up a lot of extra good fudge this afternoon

and we want someone to help us eat itbefore the firewhile we tell stories. Perhaps Captain Jim will drop

"No. Captain Jim is over home," said Leslie. "Hehe made me come here," she added, half defiantly.

"I'll say a thankyou to him for that when I see him," said Anne, pulling easy chairs before the fire.

"Oh, I don't mean that I didn't want to come," protested Leslie, flushing a little. "II've been thinking of

"Of course it must be hard for you to leave Mr. Moore," said Anne, in a matteroffact tone. She had decided

that it would be best to mention Dick Moore occasionally as an accepted fact, and not give undue morbidness

to the subject by avoiding it. She was right, for Leslie's air of constraint suddenly vanished. Evidently she had

been wondering how much Anne knew of the conditions of her life and was relieved that no explanations

were needed. She allowed her cap and jacket to be taken, and sat down with a girlish snuggle in the big

armchair by Magog. She was dressed prettily and carefully, with the customary touch of color in the scarlet

geranium at her white throat. Her beautiful hair gleamed like molten gold in the warm firelight. Her seablue

eyes were full of soft laughter and allurement. For the moment, under the influence of the little house of

dreams, she was a girl againa girl forgetful of the past and its bitterness. The atmosphere of the many loves

that had sanctified the little house was all about her; the companionship of two healthy, happy, young folks of

her own generation encircled her; she felt and yielded to the magic of her surroundingsMiss Cornelia and

Captain Jim would scarcely have recognized her; Anne found it hard to believe that this was the cold,

unresponsive woman she had met on the shorethis animated girl who talked and listened with the

eagerness of a starved soul. And how hungrily Leslie's eyes looked at the bookcases between the windows!

"Our library isn't very extensive," said Anne, "but every book in it is a FRIEND. We've picked our books up

through the years, here and there, never buying one until we had first read it and knew that it belonged to the

Leslie laughedbeautiful laughter that seemed akin to all the mirth that had echoed through the little house

"I have a few books of father'snot many," she said. "I've read them until I know them almost by heart. I

don't get many books. There's a circulating library at the Glen storebut I don't think the committee who

pick the books for Mr. Parker know what books are of Joseph's raceor perhaps they don't care. It was so

"You are setting a feast of fat things before me," said Leslie, joyously. Then, as the clock struck ten, she rose,

"I must go. I didn't realise it was so late. Captain Jim is always saying it doesn't take long to stay an hour. But

"Come often," said Anne and Gilbert. They had risen and stood together in the firelight's glow. Leslie looked

at themyouthful, hopeful, happy, typifying all she had missed and must forever miss. The light went out of

her face and eyes; the girl vanished; it was the sorrowful, cheated woman who answered the invitation almost

Anne watched her until she was lost in the shadows of the chill and misty night. Then she turned slowly back

"Isn't she lovely, Gilbert? Her hair fascinates me. Miss Cornelia says it reaches to her feet. Ruby Gillis had

"She is very beautiful," agreed Gilbert, so heartily that Anne almost wished he were a LITTLE less

"Gilbert, would you like my hair better if it were like Leslie's?" she asked wistfully.

"I wouldn't have your hair any color but just what it is for the world," said Gilbert, with one or two

"Yes, redto give warmth to that milkwhite skin and those shining graygreen eyes of yours. Golden hair

wouldn't suit you at all Queen AnneMY Queen Annequeen of my heart and life and home."

One evening, a week later, Anne decided to run over the fields to the house up the brook for an informal call.

It was an evening of gray fog that had crept in from the gulf, swathed the harbor, filled the glens and valleys,

and clung heavily to the autumnal meadows. Through it the sea sobbed and shuddered. Anne saw Four Winds

in a new aspect, and found it weird and mysterious and fascinating; but it also gave her a little feeling of

loneliness. Gilbert was away and would be away until the morrow, attending a medical powwow in

Charlottetown. Anne longed for an hour of fellowship with some girl friend. Captain Jim and Miss Cornelia

"If only Diana or Phil or Pris or Stella could drop in for a chat," she said to herself, "how delightful it would

be! This is such a GHOSTLY night. I'm sure all the ships that ever sailed out of Four Winds to their doom

could be seen tonight sailing up the harbor with their drowned crews on their decks, if that shrouding fog

could suddenly be drawn aside. I feel as if it concealed innumerable mysteriesas if I were surrounded by

the wraiths of old generations of Four Winds people peering at me through that gray veil. If ever the dear

dead ladies of this little house came back to revisit it they would come on just such a night as this. If I sit here

any longer I'll see one of them there opposite me in Gilbert's chair. This place isn't exactly canny tonight.

Even Gog and Magog have an air of pricking up their ears to hear the footsteps of unseen guests. I'll run over

to see Leslie before I frighten myself with my own fancies, as I did long ago in the matter of the Haunted

Wood. I'll leave my house of dreams to welcome back its old inhabitants. My fire will give them my

goodwill and greetingthey will be gone before I come back, and my house will be mine once more.

Laughing a little over her fancy, yet with something of a creepy sensation in the region of her spine, Anne

kissed her hand to Gog and Magog and slipped out into the fog, with some of the new magazines under her

"Leslie's wild for books and magazines," Miss Cornelia had told her, "and she hardly ever sees one. She can't

afford to buy them or subscribe for them. She's really pitifully poor, Anne. I don't see how she makes out to

live at all on the little rent the farm brings in. She never even hints a complaint on the score of poverty, but I

know what it must be. She's been handicapped by it all her life. She didn't mind it when she was free and

ambitious, but it must gall now, believe ME. I'm glad she seemed so bright and merry the evening she spent

with you. Captain Jim told me he had fairly to put her cap and coat on and push her out of the door. Don't be

too long going to see her either. If you are she'll think it's because you don't like the sight of Dick, and she'll

crawl into her shell again. Dick's a great, big, harmless baby, but that silly grin and chuckle of his do get on

some people's nerves. Thank goodness, I've no nerves myself. I like Dick Moore better now than I ever did

when he was in his right sensesthough the Lord knows that isn't saying much. I was down there one day in

housecleaning time helping Leslie a bit, and I was frying doughnuts. Dick was hanging round to get one, as

usual, and all at once he picked up a scalding hot one I'd just fished out and dropped it on the back of my

neck when I was bending over. Then he laughed and laughed. Believe ME, Anne, it took all the grace of God

in my heart to keep me from just whisking up that stewpan of boiling fat and pouring it over his head."

Anne laughed over Miss Cornelia's wrath as she sped through the darkness. But laughter accorded ill with

that night. She was sober enough when she reached the house among the willows. Everything was very silent.

The front part of the house seemed dark and deserted, so Anne slipped round to the side door, which opened

The door was open. Beyond, in the dimly lighted room, sat Leslie Moore, with her arms flung out on the table

and her head bent upon them. She was weeping horriblywith low, fierce, choking sobs, as if some agony in

her soul were trying to tear itself out. An old black dog was sitting by her, his nose resting on his lap, his big

doggish eyes full of mute, imploring sympathy and devotion. Anne drew back in dismay. She felt that she

could not intermeddle with this bitterness. Her heart ached with a sympathy she might not utter. To go in now

would be to shut the door forever on any possible help or friendship. Some instinct warned Anne that the

proud, bitter girl would never forgive the one who thus surprised her in her abandonment of despair.

Anne slipped noiselessly from the veranda and found her way across the yard. Beyond, she heard voices in

the gloom and saw the dim glow of a light. At the gate she met two menCaptain Jim with a lantern, and

another who she knew must be Dick Moorea big man, badly gone to fat, with a broad, round, red face, and

vacant eyes. Even in the dull light Anne got the impression that there was something unusual about his eyes.

"Is this you, Mistress Blythe?" said Captain Jim. "Now, now, you hadn't oughter be roaming about alone on a

night like this. You could get lost in this fog easier than not. Jest you wait till I see Dick safe inside the door

and I'll come back and light you over the fields. I ain't going to have Dr. Blythe coming home and finding

that you walked clean over Cape Leforce in the fog. A woman did that once, forty years ago.

"Poor, poor, little girl! She don't cry often, Mistress Blythe she's too brave for that. She must feel terrible

when she does cry. A night like this is hard on poor women who have sorrows. There's something about it

"It's full of ghosts," said Anne, with a shiver. "That was why I came overI wanted to clasp a human hand

There seem to be so many INHUMAN presences about tonight. Even my own dear house was full of them.

"You were right not to go in, though, Mistress Blythe. Leslie wouldn't have liked it. She wouldn't have liked

me going in with Dick, as I'd have done if I hadn't met you. I had Dick down with me all day. I keep him with

"You noticed that? Yes, one is blue and t'other is hazelhis father had the same. It's a Moore peculiarity.

That was what told me he was Dick Moore when I saw him first down in Cuby. If it hadn't abin for his eyes

I mightn't aknown him, with his beard and fat. You know, I reckon, that it was me found him and brought

him home. Miss Cornelia always says I shouldn't have done it, but I can't agree with her. It was the RIGHT

thing to doand so 'twas the only thing. There ain't no question in my mind about THAT. But my old heart

aches for Leslie. She's only twentyeight and she's eaten more bread with sorrow than most women do in

They walked on in silence for a little while. Presently Anne said, "Do you know, Captain Jim, I never like

walking with a lantern. I have always the strangest feeling that just outside the circle of light, just over its

edge in the darkness, I am surrounded by a ring of furtive, sinister things, watching me from the shadows

with hostile eyes. I've had that feeling from childhood. What is the reason? I never feel like that when I'm

really in the darknesswhen it is close all around meI'm not the least frightened."

"I've something of that feeling myself," admitted Captain Jim. "I reckon when the darkness is close to us it is

a friend. But when we sorter push it away from usdivorce ourselves from it, so to speak, with lantern

There's a smart west wind rising, if you notice. The stars will be out when you get home."

They were out; and when Anne reentered her house of dreams the red embers were still glowing on the

The splendor of color which had glowed for weeks along the shores of Four Winds Harbor had faded out into

the soft grayblue of late autumnal hills. There came many days when fields and shores were dim with misty

rain, or shivering before the breath of a melancholy seawindnights, too, of storm and tempest, when Anne

sometimes wakened to pray that no ship might be beating up the grim north shore, for if it were so not even

the great, faithful light whirling through the darkness unafraid, could avail to guide it into safe haven.

"In November I sometimes feel as if spring could never come again," she sighed, grieving over the hopeless

unsightliness of her frosted and bedraggled flowerplots. The gay little garden of the schoolmaster's bride

was rather a forlorn place now, and the Lombardies and birches were under bare poles, as Captain Jim said.

But the firwood behind the little house was forever green and staunch; and even in November and

December there came gracious days of sunshine and purple hazes, when the harbor danced and sparkled as

blithely as in midsummer, and the gulf was so softly blue and tender that the storm and the wild wind seemed

Anne and Gilbert spent many an autumn evening at the lighthouse. It was always a cheery place. Even when

the east wind sang in minor and the sea was dead and gray, hints of sunshine seemed to be lurking all about

it. Perhaps this was because the First Mate always paraded it in panoply of gold. He was so large and

effulgent that one hardly missed the sun, and his resounding purrs formed a pleasant accompaniment to the

laughter and conversation which went on around Captain Jim's fireplace. Captain Jim and Gilbert had many

"I like to ponder on all kinds of problems, though I can't solve 'em," said Captain Jim. "My father held that

we should never talk of things we couldn't understand, but if we didn't, doctor, the subjects for conversation

would be mighty few. I reckon the gods laugh many a time to hear us, but what matters so long as we

remember that we're only men and don't take to fancying that we're gods ourselves, really, knowing good and

evil. I reckon our pow wows won't do us or anyone much harm, so let's have another whack at the whence,

While they "whacked," Anne listened or dreamed. Sometimes Leslie went to the lighthouse with them, and

she and Anne wandered along the shore in the eerie twilight, or sat on the rocks below the lighthouse until the

darkness drove them back to the cheer of the driftwood fire. Then Captain Jim would brew them tea and tell

"tales of land and sea And whatsoever might betide The great forgotten world outside."

Leslie seemed always to enjoy those lighthouse carousals very much, and bloomed out for the time being into

ready wit and beautiful laughter, or glowingeyed silence. There was a certain tang and savor in the

conversation when Leslie was present which they missed when she was absent. Even when she did not talk

she seemed to inspire others to brilliancy. Captain Jim told his stories better, Gilbert was quicker in argument

and repartee, Anne felt little gushes and trickles of fancy and imagination bubbling to her lips under the

"That girl was born to be a leader in social and intellectual circles, far away from Four Winds," she said to

"Weren't you listening to Captain Jim and yours truly the other night when we discussed that subject

generally? We came to the comforting conclusion that the Creator probably knew how to run His universe

quite as well as we do, and that, after all, there are no such things as `wasted' lives, saving and except when

an individual wilfully squanders and wastes his own lifewhich Leslie Moore certainly hasn't done. And

some people might think that a Redmond B.A., whom editors were beginning to honor, was `wasted' as the

"If you had married Roy Gardner, now," continued Gilbert mercilessly, "YOU could have been `a leader in

"Gilbert, that's mean`pisen mean, just like all the men,' as Miss Cornelia says. I NEVER was in love with

him. I only imagined I was. YOU know that. You KNOW I'd rather be your wife in our house of dreams and

Gilbert's answer was not in words; but I am afraid that both of them forgot poor Leslie speeding her lonely

way across the fields to a house that was neither a palace nor the fulfillment of a dream.

The moon was rising over the sad, dark sea behind them and transfiguring it. Her light had not yet reached

the harbor, the further side of which was shadowy and suggestive, with dim coves and rich glooms and

"How the home lights shine out tonight through the dark!" said Anne. "That string of them over the harbor

looks like a necklace. And what a coruscation there is up at the Glen! Oh, look, Gilbert; there is ours. I'm so

glad we left it burning. I hate to come home to a dark house. OUR homelight, Gilbert! Isn't it lovely to see?"

"Just one of earth's many millions of homes, Annegirlbut ours OURSour beacon in `a naughty

world.' When a fellow has a home and a dear, little, redhaired wife in it what more need he ask of life?"

"Well, he might ask ONE thing more," whispered Anne happily. "Oh, Gilbert, it seems as if I just

At first Anne and Gilbert talked of going home to Avonlea for Christmas; but eventually they decided to stay

in Four Winds. "I want to spend the first Christmas of our life together in our own home," decreed Anne.

So it fell out that Marilla and Mrs. Rachel Lynde and the twins came to Four Winds for Christmas. Marilla

had the face of a woman who had circumnavigated the globe. She had never been sixty miles away from

home before; and she had never eaten a Christmas dinner anywhere save at Green Gables.

Mrs. Rachel had made and brought with her an enormous plum pudding. Nothing could have convinced Mrs.

Rachel that a college graduate of the younger generation could make a Christmas plum pudding properly; but

"Anne's a good housekeeper," she said to Marilla in the spare room the night of their arrival. "I've looked into

her bread box and her scrap pail. I always judge a housekeeper by those, that's what. There's nothing in the

pail that shouldn't have been thrown away, and no stale pieces in the bread box. Of course, she was trained up

with youbut, then, she went to college afterwards. I notice she's got my tobacco stripe quilt on the bed

here, and that big round braided mat of yours before her livingroom fire. It makes me feel right at home."

Anne's first Christmas in her own house was as delightful as she could have wished. The day was fine and

bright; the first skim of snow had fallen on Christmas Eve and made the world beautiful; the harbor was still

Captain Jim and Miss Cornelia came to dinner. Leslie and Dick had been invited, but Leslie made excuse;

"She'd rather have it so," Miss Cornelia told Anne. "She can't bear taking Dick where there are strangers.

Christmas is always a hard time for Leslie. She and her father used to make a lot of it."

Miss Cornelia and Mrs. Rachel did not take a very violent fancy to each other. "Two suns hold not their

courses in one sphere." But they did not clash at all, for Mrs. Rachel was in the kitchen helping Anne and

Marilla with the dinner, and it fell to Gilbert to entertain Captain Jim and Miss Cornelia,or rather to be

entertained by them, for a dialogue between those two old friends and antagonists was assuredly never dull.

"It's many a year since there was a Christmas dinner here, Mistress Blythe," said Captain Jim. "Miss Russell

always went to her friends in town for Christmas. But I was here to the first Christmas dinner that was ever

eaten in this houseand the schoolmaster's bride cooked it. That was sixty years ago today, Mistress

Blytheand a day very like thisjust enough snow to make the hills white, and the harbor as blue as June. I

was only a lad, and I'd never been invited out to dinner before, and I was too shy to eat enough. I've got all

"Most men do," said Miss Cornelia, sewing furiously. Miss Cornelia was not going to sit with idle hands,

Babies come without any consideration for holidays, and there was one expected in a povertystricken

household at Glen St. Mary. Miss Cornelia had sent that household a substantial dinner for its little swarm,

"Well, you know, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, Cornelia," explained Captain Jim.

"I believe youwhen he HAS a heart," retorted Miss Cornelia. "I suppose that's why so many women kill

themselves cookingjust as poor Amelia Baxter did. She died last Christmas morning, and she said it was

the first Christmas since she was married that she didn't have to cook a big, twentyplate dinner. It must have

been a real pleasant change for her. Well, she's been dead a year, so you'll soon hear of Horace Baxter taking

"I heard he was taking notice already," said Captain Jim, winking at Gilbert. "Wasn't he up to your place one

"No, he wasn't. And he needn't come neither. I could have had him long ago when he was fresh. I don't want

any secondhand goods, believe ME. As for Horace Baxter, he was in financial difficulties a year ago last

summer, and he prayed to the Lord for help; and when his wife died and he got her life insurance he said he

"I have the Methodist minister's word for itif you call THAT proof. Robert Baxter told me the same thing

too, but I admit THAT isn't evidence. Robert Baxter isn't often known to tell the truth."

"Come, come, Cornelia, I think he generally tells the truth, but he changes his opinion so often it sometimes

"It sounds like it mighty often, believe ME. But trust one man to excuse another. I have no use for Robert

Baxter. He turned Methodist just because the Presbyterian choir happened to be singing `Behold the

bridegroom cometh' for a collection piece when him and Margaret walked up the aisle the Sunday after they

were married. Served him right for being late! He always insisted the choir did it on purpose to insult him, as

if he was of that much importance. But that family always thought they were much bigger potatoes than they

really were. His brother Eliphalet imagined the devil was always at his elbowbut _I_ never believed the

"Idon'tknow," said Captain Jim thoughtfully. "Eliphalet Baxter lived too much alonehadn't even a cat

or dog to keep him human. When a man is alone he's mighty apt to be with the devilif he ain't with God.

He has to choose which company he'll keep, I reckon. If the devil always was at Life Baxter's elbow it must

"Manlike," said Miss Cornelia, and subsided into silence over a complicated arrangement of tucks until

"Come, now, Cornelia, _I_ can't see any harm in going to the Methodist church when there's no preaching in

your own. I've been a Presbyterian for seventysix years, and it isn't likely my theology will hoist anchor at

"Besides," continued wicked Captain Jim, "I wanted to hear some good singing. The Methodists have a good

choir; and you can't deny, Cornelia, that the singing in our church is awful since the split in the choir."

"What if the singing isn't good? They're doing their best, and God sees no difference between the voice of a

"Come, come, Cornelia," said Captain Jim mildly, "I've a better opinion of the Almighty's ear for music than

"What caused the trouble in our choir?" asked Gilbert, who was suffering from suppressed laughter.

"It dates back to the new church, three years ago," answered Captain Jim. "We had a fearful time over the

building of that churchfell out over the question of a new site. The two sites wasn't more'n two hundred

yards apart, but you'd have thought they was a thousand by the bitterness of that fight. We was split up into

three factionsone wanted the east site and one the south, and one held to the old. It was fought out in bed

and at board, and in church and at market. All the old scandals of three generations were dragged out of their

graves and aired. Three matches was broken up by it. And the meetings we had to try to settle the question!

Cornelia, will you ever forget the one when old Luther Burns got up and made a speech? HE stated his

"Call a spade a spade, Captain. You mean he got redmad and raked them all, fore and aft. They deserved it

tooa pack of incapables. But what would you expect of a committee of men? That building committee held

twentyseven meetings, and at the end of the twentyseventh weren't no nearer having a church than when

they begunnot so near, for a fact, for in one fit of hurrying things along they'd gone to work and tore the

old church down, so there we were, without a church, and no place but the hall to worship in."

"The Glen St. Mary church wouldn't have been built to this day," went on Miss Cornelia, ignoring Captain

Jim, "if we women hadn't just started in and took charge. We said WE meant to have a church, if the men

meant to quarrel till doomsday, and we were tired of being a laughingstock for the Methodists. We held

ONE meeting and elected a committee and canvassed for subscriptions. We got them, too. When any of the

men tried to sass us we told them they'd tried for two years to build a church and it was our turn now. We

shut them up close, believe ME, and in six months we had our church. Of course, when the men saw we were

determined they stopped fighting and went to work, manlike, as soon as they saw they had to, or quit

bossing. Oh, women can't preach or be elders; but they can build churches and scare up the money for them."

"I never said the Methodists hadn't common sense, Captain. What I say is, I doubt if they have much

"I'm not hankering after the vote, believe ME," said Miss Cornelia scornfully. "_I_ know what it is to clean

up after the men. But some of these days, when the men realize they've got the world into a mess they can't

get it out of, they'll be glad to give us the vote, and shoulder their troubles over on us. That's THEIR scheme.

"Job! It was such a rare thing to find a patient man that when one was really discovered they were determined

he shouldn't be forgotten," retorted Miss Cornelia triumphantly. "Anyhow, the virtue doesn't go with the

name. There never was such an impatient man born as old Job Taylor over harbor."

"Well, you know, he had a good deal to try him, Cornelia. Even you can't defend his wife. I always remember

what old William MacAllister said of her at her funeral, `There's nae doot she was a Chreestian wumman, but

"I suppose she WAS trying," admitted Miss Cornelia reluctantly, "but that didn't justify what Job said when

she died. He rode home from the graveyard the day of the funeral with my father. He never said a word till

they got near home. Then he heaved a big sigh and said, `You may not believe it, Stephen, but this is the

"I s'pose poor old Mrs. Job did make life kinder uneasy for him," reflected Captain Jim.

"Well, there's such a thing as decency, isn't there? Even if a man is rejoicing in his heart over his wife being

dead, he needn't proclaim it to the four winds of heaven. And happy day or not, Job Taylor wasn't long in

marrying again, you might notice. His second wife could manage him. She made him walk Spanish, believe

me! The first thing she did was to make him hustle round and put up a tombstone to the first Mrs. Joband

she had a place left on it for her own name. She said there'd be nobody to make Job put up a monument to

"Speaking of Taylors, how is Mrs. Lewis Taylor up at the Glen, doctor?" asked Captain Jim.

"Her husband works hard tooraising prize pigs," said Miss Cornelia. "He's noted for his beautiful pigs.

He's a heap prouder of his pigs than of his children. But then, to be sure, his pigs are the best pigs possible,

while his children don't amount to much. He picked a poor mother for them, and starved her while she was

bearing and rearing them. His pigs got the cream and his children got the skim milk.

"There are times, Cornelia, when I have to agree with you, though it hurts me," said Captain Jim. "That's just

exactly the truth about Lewis Taylor. When I see those poor, miserable children of his, robbed of all children

Gilbert went out to the kitchen in response to Anne's beckoning. Anne shut the door and gave him a

"Gilbert, you and Captain Jim must stop baiting Miss Cornelia. Oh, I've been listening to youand I just

"Well, never mind. You two needn't egg her on like that. Dinner is ready now, and, Gilbert, DON'T let Mrs.

Rachel carve the geese. I know she means to offer to do it because she doesn't think you can do it properly.

"I ought to be able to. I've been studying ABCD diagrams of carving for the past month," said Gilbert.

"Only don't talk to me while I'm doing it, Anne, for if you drive the letters out of my head I'll be in a worse

Gilbert carved the geese beautifully. Even Mrs. Rachel had to admit that. And everybody ate of them and

enjoyed them. Anne's first Christmas dinner was a great success and she beamed with housewifely pride.

Merry was the feast and long; and when it was over they gathered around the cheer of the red hearth flame

and Captain Jim told them stories until the red sun swung low over Four Winds Harbor, and the long blue

"I must be getting back to the light," he said finally. "I'll jest have time to walk home before sundown. Thank

you for a beautiful Christmas, Mistress Blythe. Bring Master Davy down to the light some night before he

The Green Gables folk went home after Christmas, Marilla under solemn covenant to return for a month in

the spring. More snow came before New Year's, and the harbor froze over, but the gulf still was free, beyond

the white, imprisoned fields. The last day of the old year was one of those bright, cold, dazzling winter days,

which bombard us with their brilliancy, and command our admiration but never our love. The sky was sharp

and blue; the snow diamonds sparkled insistently; the stark trees were bare and shameless, with a kind of

brazen beauty; the hills shot assaulting lances of crystal. Even the shadows were sharp and stiff and

clearcut, as no proper shadows should be. Everything that was handsome seemed ten times handsomer and

less attractive in the glaring splendor; and everything that was ugly seemed ten times uglier, and everything

was either handsome or ugly. There was no soft blending, or kind obscurity, or elusive mistiness in that

searching glitter. The only things that held their own individuality were the firsfor the fir is the tree of

But finally the day began to realise that she was growing old. Then a certain pensiveness fell over her beauty

which dimmed yet intensified it; sharp angles, glittering points, melted away into curves and enticing gleams.

The white harbor put on soft grays and pinks; the faraway hills turned amethyst.

She and Leslie and Gilbert were on their way to the Four Winds Point, having plotted with Captain Jim to

watch the New Year in at the light. The sun had set and in the southwestern sky hung Venus, glorious and

golden, having drawn as near to her earthsister as is possible for her. For the first time Anne and Gilbert saw

the shadow cast by that brilliant star of evening, that faint, mysterious shadow, never seen save when there is

white snow to reveal it, and then only with averted vision, vanishing when you gaze at it directly.

"It's like the spirit of a shadow, isn't it?" whispered Anne. "You can see it so plainly haunting your side when

"I have heard that you can see the shadow of Venus only once in a lifetime, and that within a year of seeing it

your life's most wonderful gift will come to you," said Leslie. But she spoke rather hardly; perhaps she

thought that even the shadow of Venus could bring her no gift of life. Anne smiled in the soft twilight; she

They found Marshall Elliott at the lighthouse. At first Anne felt inclined to resent the intrusion of this

longhaired, longbearded eccentric into the familiar little circle. But Marshall Elliott soon proved his

legitimate claim to membership in the household of Joseph. He was a witty, intelligent, wellread man,

rivalling Captain Jim himself in the knack of telling a good story. They were all glad when he agreed to

Captain Jim's small nephew Joe had come down to spend New Year's with his greatuncle, and had fallen

asleep on the sofa with the First Mate curled up in a huge golden ball at his feet.

"Ain't he a dear little man?" said Captain Jim gloatingly. "I do love to watch a little child asleep, Mistress

Blythe. It's the most beautiful sight in the world, I reckon. Joe does love to get down here for a night, because

I have him sleep with me. At home he has to sleep with the other two boys, and he doesn't like it. "Why can't

I sleep with father, Uncle Jim?" says he. `Everybody in the Bible slept with their fathers.' As for the questions

he asks, the minister himself couldn't answer them. They fair swamp me. `Uncle Jim, if I wasn't ME who'd I

be?' and, `Uncle Jim, what would happen if God died?' He fired them two off at me tonight, afore he went to

sleep. As for his imagination, it sails away from everything. He makes up the most remarkable yarnsand

then his mother shuts him up in the closet for telling stories . And he sits down and makes up another one,

and has it ready to relate to her when she lets him out. He had one for me when he come down tonight.

`Uncle Jim,' says he, solemn as a tombstone, `I had a 'venture in the Glen today.' `Yes, what was it?' says I,

expecting something quite startling, but nowise prepared for what I really got. `I met a wolf in the street,' says

he, `a 'normous wolf with a big, red mouf and AWFUL long teeth, Uncle Jim.' `I didn't know there was any

wolves up at the Glen,' says I. `Oh, he comed there from far, far away,' says Joe, `and I fought he was going

to eat me up, Uncle Jim.' `Were you scared?' says I. `No, 'cause I had a big gun,' says Joe, `and I shot the wolf

dead, Uncle Jim,solid deadand then he went up to heaven and bit God,' says he. Well, I was fair

The hours bloomed into mirth around the driftwood fire. Captain Jim told tales, and Marshall Elliott sang old

Scotch ballads in a fine tenor voice; finally Captain Jim took down his old brown fiddle from the wall and

began to play. He had a tolerable knack of fiddling, which all appreciated save the First Mate, who sprang

from the sofa as if he had been shot, emitted a shriek of protest, and fled wildly up the stairs.

"Can't cultivate an ear for music in that cat nohow," said Captain Jim. "He won't stay long enough to learn to

like it. When we got the organ up at the Glen church old Elder Richards bounced up from his seat the minute

the organist began to play and scuttled down the aisle and out of the church at the rate of noman'sbusiness.

It reminded me so strong of the First Mate tearing loose as soon as I begin to fiddle that I come nearer to

There was something so infectious in the rollicking tunes which Captain Jim played that very soon Marshall

Elliott's feet began to twitch. He had been a noted dancer in his youth. Presently he started up and held out his

hands to Leslie. Instantly she responded. Round and round the firelit room they circled with a rhythmic grace

that was wonderful. Leslie danced like one inspired; the wild, sweet abandon of the music seemed to have

entered into and possessed her. Anne watched her in fascinated admiration. She had never seen her like this.

All the innate richness and color and charm of her nature seemed to have broken loose and overflowed in

crimson cheek and glowing eye and grace of motion. Even the aspect of Marshall Elliott, with his long beard

and hair, could not spoil the picture. On the contrary, it seemed to enhance it. Marshall Elliott looked like a

Viking of elder days, dancing with one of the blueeyed, goldenhaired daughters of the Northland.

"The purtiest dancing I ever saw, and I've seen some in my time," declared Captain Jim, when at last the bow

"I love dancing," she said apart to Anne. "I haven't danced since I was sixteenbut I love it. The music

seems to run through my veins like quicksilver and I forget everythingeverythingexcept the delight of

keeping time to it. There isn't any floor beneath me, or walls about me, or roof over meI'm floating amid

Captain Jim hung his fiddle up in its place, beside a large frame enclosing several banknotes.

"Is there anybody else of your acquaintance who can afford to hang his walls with banknotes for pictures?"

he asked. "There's twenty tendollar notes there, not worth the glass over them. They're old Bank of P. E.

Island notes. Had them by me when the bank failed, and I had 'em framed and hung up, partly as a reminder

not to put your trust in banks, and partly to give me a real luxurious, millionairy feeling. Hullo, Matey, don't

be scared. You can come back now. The music and revelry is over for tonight. The old year has just another

hour to stay with us. I've seen seventysix New Years come in over that gulf yonder, Mistress Blythe."

"No; and I don't want toat least, I think I don't. Death grows friendlier as we grow older. Not that one of us

really wants to die though, Marshall. Tennyson spoke truth when he said that. There's old Mrs. Wallace up at

the Glen. She's had heaps of trouble all her life, poor soul, and she's lost almost everyone she cared about.

She's always saying that she'll be glad when her time comes, and she doesn't want to sojourn any longer in

this vale of tears. But when she takes a sick spell there's a fuss! Doctors from town, and a trained nurse, and

enough medicine to kill a dog. Life may be a vale of tears, all right, but there are some folks who enjoy

They spent the old year's last hour quietly around the fire. A few minutes before twelve Captain Jim rose and

Outside was a fine blue night. A sparkling ribbon of moonlight garlanded the gulf. Inside the bar the harbor

shone like a pavement of pearl. They stood before the door and waitedCaptain Jim with his ripe, full

experience, Marshall Elliott in his vigorous but empty middle life, Gilbert and Anne with their precious

memories and exquisite hopes, Leslie with her record of starved years and her hopeless future. The clock on

"Welcome, New Year," said Captain Jim, bowing low as the last stroke died away. "I wish you all the best

year of your lives, mates. I reckon that whatever the New Year brings us will be the best the Great Captain

Winter set in vigorously after New Year's. Big, white drifts heaped themselves about the little house, and

palms of frost covered its windows. The harbor ice grew harder and thicker, until the Four Winds people

began their usual winter travelling over it. The safe ways were "bushed" by a benevolent Government, and

night and day the gay tinkle of the sleighbells sounded on it. On moonlit nights Anne heard them in her

house of dreams like fairy chimes. The gulf froze over, and the Four Winds light flashed no more. During the

"The First Mate and I will have nothing to do till spring except keep warm and amuse ourselves. The last

lighthouse keeper used always to move up to the Glen in winter; but I'd rather stay at the Point. The First

Mate might get poisoned or chewed up by dogs at the Glen. It's a mite lonely, to be sure, with neither the

light nor the water for company, but if our friends come to see us often we'll weather it through."

Captain Jim had an ice boat, and many a wild, glorious spin Gilbert and Anne and Leslie had over the glib

harbor ice with him. Anne and Leslie took long snowshoe tramps together, too, over the fields, or across the

harbor after storms, or through the woods beyond the Glen. They were very good comrades in their rambles

and their fireside communings. Each had something to give the othereach felt life the richer for friendly

exchange of thought and friendly silence; each looked across the white fields between their homes with a

pleasant consciousness of a friend beyond. But, in spite of all this, Anne felt that there was always a barrier

"I don't know why I can't get closer to her," Anne said one evening to Captain Jim. "I like her so muchI

admire her so muchI WANT to take her right into my heart and creep right into hers. But I can never cross

"You've been too happy all your life, Mistress Blythe," said Captain Jim thoughtfully. "I reckon that's why

you and Leslie can't get real close together in your souls. The barrier between you is her experience of sorrow

and trouble. She ain't responsible for it and you ain't; but it's there and neither of you can cross it."

"My childhood wasn't very happy before I came to Green Gables," said Anne, gazing soberly out of the

window at the still, sad, dead beauty of the leafless treeshadows on the moonlit snow.

"Mebbe notbut it was just the usual unhappiness of a child who hasn't anyone to look after it properly.

There hasn't been any TRAGEDY in your life, Mistress Blythe. And poor Leslie's has been almost ALL

tragedy. She feels, I reckon, though mebbe she hardly knows she feels it, that there's a vast deal in her life

you can't enter nor understandand so she has to keep you back from ithold you off, so to speak, from

hurting her. You know if we've got anything about us that hurts we shrink from anyone's touch on or near it.

It holds good with our souls as well as our bodies, I reckon. Leslie's soul must be near rawit's no wonder

"If that were really all, I wouldn't mind, Captain Jim. I would understand. But there are timesnot always,

but now and again when I almost have to believe that Leslie doesn'tdoesn't like me. Sometimes I

surprise a look in her eyes that seems to show resentment and dislikeit goes so quicklybut I've seen it,

I'm sure of that. And it hurts me, Captain Jim. I'm not used to being disliked and I've tried so hard to win

"You have won it, Mistress Blythe. Don't you go cherishing any foolish notion that Leslie don't like you. If

she didn't she wouldn't have anything to do with you, much less chumming with you as she does. I know

"The first time I ever saw her, driving her geese down the hill on the day I came to Four Winds, she looked at

me with the same expression," persisted Anne. "I felt it, even in the midst of my admiration of her beauty.

"The resentment must have been about something else, Mistress Blythe, and you jest come in for a share of it

because you happened past. Leslie DOES take sullen spells now and again, poor girl. I can't blame her, when

I know what she has to put up with. I don't know why it's permitted. The doctor and I have talked a lot abut

the origin of evil, but we haven't quite found out all about it yet. There's a vast of onunderstandable things in

life, ain't there, Mistress Blythe? Sometimes things seem to work out real properlike, same as with you and

the doctor. And then again they all seem to go catawampus. There's Leslie, so clever and beautiful you'd

think she was meant for a queen, and instead she's cooped up over there, robbed of almost everything a

woman'd value, with no prospect except waiting on Dick Moore all her life. Though, mind you, Mistress

Blythe, I daresay she'd choose her life now, such as it is, rather than the life she lived with Dick before he

went away. THAT'S something a clumsy old sailor's tongue mustn't meddle with. But you've helped Leslie a

lotshe's a different creature since you come to Four Winds. Us old friends see the difference in her, as you

can't. Miss Cornelia and me was talking it over the other day, and it's one of the mighty few p'ints that we see

Anne could hardly discard it completely, for there were undoubtedly times when she felt, with an instinct that

was not to be combated by reason, that Leslie harbored a queer, indefinable resentment towards her. At times,

this secret consciousness marred the delight of their comradeship; at others it was almost forgotten; but Anne

always felt the hidden thorn was there, and might prick her at any moment. She felt a cruel sting from it on

the day when she told Leslie of what she hoped the spring would bring to the little house of dreams. Leslie

"So you are to have THAT, too," she said in a choked voice. And without another word she had turned and

gone across the fields homeward. Anne was deeply hurt; for the moment she felt as if she could never like

Leslie again. But when Leslie came over a few evenings later she was so pleasant, so friendly, so frank, and

witty, and winsome, that Anne was charmed into forgiveness and forgetfulness. Only, she never mentioned

her darling hope to Leslie again; nor did Leslie ever refer to it. But one evening, when late winter was

listening for the word of spring, she came over to the little house for a twilight chat; and when she went away

she left a small, white box on the table. Anne found it after she was gone and opened it wonderingly. In it was

a tiny white dress of exquisite workmanship delicate embroidery, wonderful tucking, sheer loveliness.

Every stitch in it was handwork; and the little frills of lace at neck and sleeves were of real Valenciennes.

"What hours of work she must have put on it," said Anne. "And the material must have cost more than she

But Leslie was brusque and curt when Anne thanked her, and again the latter felt thrown back upon herself.

Leslie's gift was not alone in the little house. Miss Cornelia had, for the time being, given up sewing for

unwanted, unwelcome eighth babies, and fallen to sewing for a very much wanted first one, whose welcome

would leave nothing to be desired. Philippa Blake and Diana Wright each sent a marvellous garment; and

Mrs. Rachel Lynde sent several, in which good material and honest stitches took the place of embroidery and

frills. Anne herself made many, desecrated by no touch of machinery, spending over them the happiest hours

Captain Jim was the most frequent guest of the little house, and none was more welcome. Every day Anne

loved the simplesouled, truehearted old sailor more and more. He was as refreshing as a sea breeze, as

interesting as some ancient chronicle. She was never tired of listening to his stories, and his quaint remarks

and comments were a continual delight to her. Captain Jim was one of those rare and interesting people who

"never speak but they say something." The milk of human kindness and the wisdom of the serpent were

"I've kind of contracted a habit of enj'ying things," he remarked once, when Anne had commented on his

invariable cheerfulness. "It's got so chronic that I believe I even enj'y the disagreeable things. It's great fun

thinking they can't last. `Old rheumatiz,' says I, when it grips me hard, `you've GOT to stop aching sometime.

The worse you are the sooner you'll stop, mebbe. I'm bound to get the better of you in the long run, whether

One night, by the fireside at the light Anne saw Captain Jim's "lifebook." He needed no coaxing to show it

"I writ it to leave to little Joe," he said. "I don't like the idea of everything I've done and seen being clean

forgot after I've shipped for my last v'yage. Joe, he'll remember it, and tell the yarns to his children."

It was an old leatherbound book filled with the record of his voyages and adventures. Anne thought what a

treasure trove it would be to a writer. Every sentence was a nugget. In itself the book had no literary merit;

Captain Jim's charm of storytelling failed him when he came to pen and ink; he could only jot roughly down

the outline of his famous tales, and both spelling and grammar were sadly askew. But Anne felt that if anyone

possessed of the gift could take that simple record of a brave, adventurous life, reading between the bald lines

the tales of dangers staunchly faced and duty manfully done, a wonderful story might be made from it. Rich

comedy and thrilling tragedy were both lying hidden in Captain Jim's "lifebook," waiting for the touch of

" No. I only wish I could. But it's not in the power of my gift. You know what my forte is, Gilbertthe

fanciful, the fairylike, the pretty. To write Captain Jim's lifebook as it should be written one should be a

master of vigorous yet subtle style, a keen psychologist, a born humorist and a born tragedian. A rare

combination of gifts is needed. Paul might do it if he were older. Anyhow, I'm going to ask him to come

"Come to this shore," wrote Anne to Paul. "I am afraid you cannot find here Nora or the Golden Lady or the

Twin Sailors; but you will find one old sailor who can tell you wonderful stories."

Paul, however wrote back, saying regretfully that he could not come that year. He was going abroad for two

"But meanwhile, Captain Jim is growing old," said Anne, sorrowfully, "and there is nobody to write his

The ice in the harbor grew black and rotten in the March suns; in April there were blue waters and a windy,

"I'm so glad to see it once more," said Anne, on the first evening of its reappearance. "I've missed it so all

The land was tender with brandnew, goldengreen, baby leaves. There was an emerald mist on the woods

Vibrant winds came and went with salt foam in their breath. The sea laughed and flashed and preened and

allured, like a beautiful, coquettish woman. The herring schooled and the fishing village woke to life. The

harbor was alive with white sails making for the channel. The ships began to sail outward and inward again.

"On a spring day like this," said Anne, "I know exactly what my soul will feel like on the resurrection

"There are times in spring when I sorter feel that I might have been a poet if I'd been caught young,"

remarked Captain Jim. "I catch myself conning over old lines and verses I heard the schoolmaster reciting

sixty years ago. They don't trouble me at other times. Now I feel as if I had to get out on the rocks or the

Captain Jim had come up that afternoon to bring Anne a load of shells for her garden, and a little bunch of

"It's getting real scarce along this shore now," he said. "When I was a boy there was aplenty of it. But now

it's only once in a while you'll find a plotand never when you're looking for it. You jest have to stumble on

ityou're walking along on the sand hills, never thinking of sweetgrassand all at once the air is full of

sweetness and there's the grass under your feet. I favor the smell of sweetgrass. It always makes me think

"Not that I knows on. Dunno's she ever saw any sweetgrass. No, it's because it has a kind of motherly

perfumenot too young, you understandsomething kind of seasoned and wholesome and

dependablejest like a mother. The schoolmaster's bride always kept it among her handkerchiefs. You

might put that little bunch among yours, Mistress Blythe. I don't like these boughten scents but a whiff of

Anne had not been especially enthusiastic over the idea of surrounding her flower beds with quahog shells; as

a decoration they did not appeal to her on first thought. But she would not have hurt Captain Jim's feelings

for anything; so she assumed a virtue she did not at first feel, and thanked him heartily. And when Captain

Jim had proudly encircled every bed with a rim of the big, milkwhite shells, Anne found to her surprise that

she liked the effect. On a town lawn, or even up at the Glen, they would not have been in keeping, but here,

in the oldfashioned, seabound garden of the little house of dreams, they BELONGED.

"The schoolmaster's bride always had cowhawks round her beds," said Captain Jim. "She was a master hand

with flowers. She LOOKED at 'emand touched 'emSOand they grew like mad. Some folks have that

"Oh, I don't knowbut I love my garden, and I love working in it. To potter with green, growing things,

watching each day to see the dear, new sprouts come up, is like taking a hand in creation, I think. Just now

"It always amazes me to look at the little, wrinkled brown seeds and think of the rainbows in 'em," said

Captain Jim. "When I ponder on them seeds I don't find it nowise hard to believe that we've got souls that'll

live in other worlds. You couldn't hardly believe there was life in them tiny things, some no bigger than

grains of dust, let alone color and scent, if you hadn't seen the miracle, could you?"

Anne, who was counting her days like silver beads on a rosary, could not now take the long walk to the

lighthouse or up the Glen road. But Miss Cornelia and Captain Jim came very often to the little house. Miss

Cornelia was the joy of Anne's and Gilbert's existence. They laughed sidesplittingly over her speeches after

every visit. When Captain Jim and she happened to visit the little house at the same time there was much

sport for the listening. They waged wordy warfare, she attacking, he defending. Anne once reproached the

"Oh, I do love to set her going, Mistress Blythe," chuckled the unrepentant sinner. "It's the greatest

amusement I have in life. That tongue of hers would blister a stone. And you and that young dog of a doctor

Captain Jim came along another evening to bring Anne some mayflowers. The garden was full of the moist,

scented air of a maritime spring evening. There was a milkwhite mist on the edge of the sea, with a young

moon kissing it, and a silver gladness of stars over the Glen. The bell of the church across the harbor was

ringing dreamily sweet. The mellow chime drifted through the dusk to mingle with the soft springmoan of

the sea. Captain Jim's mayflowers added the last completing touch to the charm of the night.

"I haven't seen any this spring, and I've missed them," said Anne, burying her face in them.

"They ain't to be found around Four Winds, only in the barrens away behind the Glen up yander. I took a

little trip today to the Landofnothingtodo, and hunted these up for you. I reckon they're the last you'll

"How kind and thoughtful you are, Captain Jim. Nobody else not even Gilbert"with a shake of her head

"Well, I had another errand, tooI wanted to take Mr. Howard back yander a mess of trout. He likes one

occasional, and it's all I can do for a kindness he did me once. I stayed all the afternoon and talked to him. He

likes to talk to me, though he's a highly eddicated man and I'm only an ignorant old sailor, because he's one of

the folks that's GOT to talk or they're miserable, and he finds listeners scarce around here. The Glen folks

fight shy of him because they think he's an infidel. He ain't that far gone exactlyfew men is, I reckonbut

he's what you might call a heretic. Heretics are wicked, but they're mighty int'resting. It's jest that they've got

sorter lost looking for God, being under the impression that He's hard to findwhich He ain't never. Most of

'em blunder to Him after awhile, I guess. I don't think listening to Mr. Howard's arguments is likely to do me

much harm. Mind you, I believe what I was brought up to believe. It saves a vast of botherand back of it

all, God is good. The trouble with Mr. Howard is that he's a leetle TOO clever. He thinks that he's bound to

live up to his cleverness, and that it's smarter to thrash out some new way of getting to heaven than to go by

the old track the common, ignorant folks is travelling. But he'll get there sometime all right, and then he'll

"Mr. Howard was a Methodist to begin with," said Miss Cornelia, as if she thought he had not far to go from

"Do you know, Cornelia," said Captain Jim gravely, "I've often thought that if I wasn't a Presbyterian I'd be a

"Oh, well," conceded Miss Cornelia, "if you weren't a Presbyterian it wouldn't matter much what you were.

Speaking of heresy, reminds me, doctorI've brought back that book you lent methat Natural Law in the

Spiritual WorldI didn't read more'n a third of it. I can read sense, and I can read nonsense, but that book is

"It IS considered rather heretical in some quarters," admitted Gilbert, "but I told you that before you took it,

"Oh, I wouldn't have minded its being heretical. I can stand wickedness, but I can't stand foolishness," said

Miss Cornelia calmly, and with the air of having said the last thing there was to say about Natural Law.

"Speaking of books, A Mad Love come to an end at last two weeks ago," remarked Captain Jim musingly. "It

run to one hundred and three chapters. When they got married the book stopped right off, so I reckon their

troubles were all over. It's real nice that that's the way in books anyhow, isn't it, even if 'tistn't so anywhere

"I never read novels," said Miss Cornelia. "Did you hear how Geordie Russell was today, Captain Jim?"

"Yes, I called in on my way home to see him. He's getting round all rightbut stewing in a broth of trouble,

'Course he brews up most of it for himself, but I reckon that don't make it any easier to bear."

"Well, no, he ain't a pessimist exactly, Cornelia. He only jest never finds anything that suits him."

"No, no. A pessimist is one who never expects to find anything to suit him. Geordie hain't got THAT far yet."

"Well, you've heard the story of the old lady who said he was persevering. But no, Cornelia, I've nothing

"How can you ask that when you know what a good Presbyterian I am, Cornelia? How could a Presbyterian

"I believe in what I heard a minister once call `a mighty and malignant and INTELLIGENT power of evil

working in the universe,'" he said solemnly. "I do THAT, Cornelia. You can call it the devil, or the `principle

of evil,' or the Old Scratch, or any name you like. It's THERE, and all the infidels and heretics in the world

can't argue it away, any more'n they can argue God away. It's there, and it's working. But, mind you,

"I am sure I hope so," said Miss Cornelia, none too hopefully. "But speaking of the devil, I am positive that

Billy Booth is possessed by him now. Have you heard of Billy's latest performance?"

"He's gone and burned up his wife's new, brown broadcloth suit, that she paid twentyfive dollars for in

Charlottetown, because he declares the men looked too admiring at her when she wore it to church the first

"Mistress Booth IS mighty pretty, and brown's her color," said Captain Jim reflectively.

"Is that any good reason why he should poke her new suit into the kitchen stove? Billy Booth is a jealous

fool, and he makes his wife's life miserable. She's cried all the week about her suit. Oh, Anne, I wish I could

"Those Booths are all a mite queer," said Captain Jim. "Billy seemed the sanest of the lot till he got married

and then this queer jealous streak cropped out in him. His brother Daniel, now, was always odd."

"Took tantrums every few days or so and wouldn't get out of bed," said Miss Cornelia with a relish. "His wife

would have to do all the barn work till he got over his spell. When he died people wrote her letters of

condolence; if I'd written anything it would have been one of congratulation. Their father, old Abram Booth,

was a disgusting old sot. He was drunk at his wife's funeral, and kept reeling round and hiccuping `I didn't

driiink much but I feel aa awfully queeer.' I gave him a good jab in the back with my

umbrella when he came near me, and it sobered him up until they got the casket out of the house. Young

Johnny Booth was to have been married yesterday, but he couldn't be because he's gone and got the mumps.

"I'd poor fellow him, believe ME, if I was Kate Sterns. I don't know how he could help getting the mumps,

but I DO know the wedding supper was all prepared and everything will be spoiled before he's well again.

Miss Cornelia disdained to reply and turned instead to Susan Baker, a grimfaced, kindhearted elderly

spinster of the Glen, who had been installed as maidofallwork at the little house for some weeks. Susan

"Very poorlyvery poorly, Cornelia. I am afraid she will soon be in heaven, poor thing!"

"Oh, surely, it's not so bad as that!" exclaimed Miss Cornelia, sympathetically .

Captain Jim and Gilbert looked at each other. Then they suddenly rose and went out.

"There are times," said Captain Jim, between spasms, "when it would be a sin NOT to laugh. Them two

In early June, when the sand hills were a great glory of pink wild roses, and the Glen was smothered in apple

blossoms, Marilla arrived at the little house, accompanied by a black horsehair trunk, patterned with brass

nails, which had reposed undisturbed in the Green Gables garret for half a century. Susan Baker, who, during

her few weeks' sojourn in the little house, had come to worship "young Mrs. Doctor," as she called Anne,

with blind fervor, looked rather jealously askance at Marilla at first. But as Marilla did not try to interfere in

kitchen matters, and showed no desire to interrupt Susan's ministrations to young Mrs. Doctor, the good

handmaiden became reconciled to her presence, and told her cronies at the Glen that Miss Cuthbert was a fine

One evening, when the sky's limpid bowl was filled with a red glory, and the robins were thrilling the golden

twilight with jubilant hymns to the stars of evening, there was a sudden commotion in the little house of

dreams. Telephone messages were sent up to the Glen, Doctor Dave and a whitecapped nurse came hastily

down, Marilla paced the garden walks between the quahog shells, murmuring prayers between her set lips,

and Susan sat in the kitchen with cotton wool in her ears and her apron over her head.

Leslie, looking out from the house up the brook, saw that every window of the little house was alight, and did

The June night was short; but it seemed an eternity to those who waited and watched.

"Oh, will it NEVER end?" said Marilla; then she saw how grave the nurse and Doctor Dave looked, and she

"Do not tell me," said Susan fiercely, answering the anguish in Marilla's eyes, "that God could be so cruel as

But at dawn, when the rising sun rent apart the mists hanging over the sandbar, and made rainbows of them,

joy came to the little house. Anne was safe, and a wee, white lady, with her mother's big eyes, was lying

beside her. Gilbert, his face gray and haggard from his night's agony, came down to tell Marilla and Susan.

"Now for breakfast," she said briskly. "I am of the opinion that we will all be glad of a bite and sup. You tell

young Mrs. Doctor not to worry about a single thingSusan is at the helm. You tell her just to think of her

Gilbert smiled rather sadly as he went away. Anne, her pale face blanched with its baptism of pain, her eyes

aglow with the holy passion of motherhood, did not need to be told to think of her baby. She thought of

nothing else. For a few hours she tasted of happiness so rare and exquisite that she wondered if the angels in

"Little Joyce," she murmured, when Marilla came in to see the baby. "We planned to call her that if she were

a girlie. There were so many we would have liked to name her for; we couldn't choose between them, so we

decided on Joycewe can call her Joy for shortJoyit suits so well. Oh, Marilla, I thought I was happy

before. Now I know that I just dreamed a pleasant dream of happiness. THIS is the reality."

At first she was too weak and too happy to notice that Gilbert and the nurse looked grave and Marilla

sorrowful. Then, as subtly, and coldly, and remorselessly as a seafog stealing landward, fear crept into her

heart. Why was not Gilbert gladder? Why would he not talk about the baby? Why would they not let her have

"Gilbert," whispered Anne imploringly, "the babyis all rightisn't she? Tell metell me."

Gilbert was a long while in turning round; then he bent over Anne and looked in her eyes. Marilla, listening

fearfully outside the door, heard a pitiful, heartbroken moan, and fled to the kitchen where Susan was

"Oh, the poor lambthe poor lamb! How can she bear it, Miss Cuthbert? I am afraid it will kill her. She has

been that built up and happy, longing for that baby, and planning for it. Cannot anything be done nohow,

"I'm afraid not, Susan. Gilbert says there is no hope. He knew from the first the little thing couldn't live."

"And it is such a sweet baby," sobbed Susan. "I never saw one so whitethey are mostly red or yallow. And

it opened its big eyes as if it was months old. The little, little thing! Oh, the poor, young Mrs. Doctor!"

At sunset the little soul that had come with the dawning went away, leaving heartbreak behind it. Miss

Cornelia took the wee, white lady from the kindly but stranger hands of the nurse, and dressed the tiny waxen

form in the beautiful dress Leslie had made for it. Leslie had asked her to do that. Then she took it back and

"The Lord has given and the Lord has taken away, dearie," she said through her own tears. "Blessed be the

The next day, the small white Joy was laid in a velvet casket which Leslie had lined with appleblossoms,

and taken to the graveyard of the church across the harbor. Miss Cornelia and Marilla put all the little

lovemade garments away, together with the ruffled basket which had been befrilled and belaced for dimpled

limbs and downy head. Little Joy was never to sleep there; she had found a colder, narrower bed.

"This has been an awful disappointment to me," sighed Miss Cornelia. "I've looked forward to this

"I can only be thankful that Anne's life was spared," said Marilla, with a shiver, recalling those hours of

"I ENVY Anne," said Leslie suddenly and fiercely, "and I'd envy her even if she had died! She was a mother

"I wouldn't talk like that, Leslie, dearie," said Miss Cornelia deprecatingly. She was afraid that the dignified

Anne's convalescence was long, and made bitter for her by many things. The bloom and sunshine of the Four

Winds world grated harshly on her; and yet, when the rain fell heavily, she pictured it beating so mercilessly

down on that little grave across the harbor; and when the wind blew around the eaves she heard sad voices in

Kindly callers hurt her, too, with the wellmeant platitudes with which they strove to cover the nakedness of

bereavement. A letter from Phil Blake was an added sting. Phil had heard of the baby's birth, but not of its

death, and she wrote Anne a congratulatory letter of sweet mirth which hurt her horribly.

"I would have laughed over it so happily if I had my baby," she sobbed to Marilla. "But when I haven't it just

seems like wanton crueltythough I know Phil wouldn't hurt me for the world. Oh, Marilla, I don't see how

"Time will help you," said Marilla, who was racked with sympathy but could never learn to express it in other

"It doesn't seem FAIR," said Anne rebelliously. "Babies are born and live where they are not wantedwhere

they will be neglected where they will have no chance. I would have loved my baby soand cared for it

so tenderlyand tried to give her every chance for good. And yet I wasn't allowed to keep her."

"It was God's will, Anne," said Marilla, helpless before the riddle of the universethe WHY of undeserved

"I can't believe THAT," cried Anne bitterly. Then, seeing that Marilla looked shocked, she added

passionately, "Why should she be born at allwhy should any one be born at allif she's better off dead? I

DON'T believe it is better for a child to die at birth than to live its life outand love and be lovedand

enjoy and sufferand do its workand develop a character that would give it a personality in eternity. And

how do you know it was God's will? Perhaps it was just a thwarting of His purpose by the Power of Evil. We

"Oh, Anne, don't talk so," said Marilla, genuinely alarmed lest Anne were drifting into deep and dangerous

waters. "We can't understandbut we must have faithwe MUST believe that all is for the best. I know

you find it hard to think so, just now. But try to be bravefor Gilbert's sake. He's so worried about you. You

"Oh, I know I've been very selfish," sighed Anne. "I love Gilbert more than everand I want to live for his

sake. But it seems as if part of me was buried over there in that little harbor graveyard and it hurts so much

"The thought that it may stop hurting sometimes hurts me worse than all else, Marilla."

"Yes, I know, I've felt that too, about other things. But we all love you, Anne. Captain Jim has been up every

day to ask for youand Mrs. Moore haunts the placeand Miss Bryant spends most of her time, I think,

cooking up nice things for you. Susan doesn't like it very well. She thinks she can cook as well as Miss

"Dear Susan! Oh, everybody has been so dear and good and lovely to me, Marilla. I'm not ungratefuland

perhapswhen this horrible ache grows a little lessI'll find that I can go on living."

Anne found that she could go on living; the day came when she even smiled again over one of Miss

Cornelia's speeches. But there was something in the smile that had never been in Anne's smile before and

On the first day she was able to go for a drive Gilbert took her down to Four Winds Point, and left her there

while he rowed over the channel to see a patient at the fishing village. A rollicking wind was scudding across

the harbor and the dunes, whipping the water into whitecaps and washing the sandshore with long lines of

"I'm real proud to see you here again, Mistress Blythe," said Captain Jim. "Sit downsit down. I'm afeared

it's mighty dusty here todaybut there's no need of looking at dust when you can look at such scenery, is

"I don't mind the dust," said Anne, "but Gilbert says I must keep in the open air. I think I'll go and sit on the

"If by company you mean yours I'd much rather have it than be alone," said Anne, smiling. Then she sighed.

She had never before minded being alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt so

"Here's a nice little spot where the wind can't get at you," said Captain Jim, when they reached the rocks. "I

"Oh, no, you're not, Mistress Blytheoh, no, you're not," said Captain Jim meditatively. "I know how you

feel jest nowbut if you keep on living you'll get glad again, and the first thing you know you'll be dreaming

againthank the good Lord for it! If it wasn't for our dreams they might as well bury us. How'd we stand

living if it wasn't for our dream of immortality? And that's a dream that's BOUND to come true, Mistress

"But she won't be my baby," said Anne, with trembling lips. "Oh, she may be, as Longfellow says, `a fair

"Of course," said Anne gently. She did not know who "lost Margaret" was, but she felt that she was going to

"Do you know why, Mistress Blythe? It's because I want somebody to remember and think of her sometime

after I'm gone. I can't bear that her name should be forgotten by all living souls. And now nobody remembers

Then Captain Jim told the storyan old, old forgotten story, for it was over fifty years since Margaret had

fallen asleep one day in her father's dory and driftedor so it was supposed, for nothing was ever certainly

known as to her fateout of the channel, beyond the bar, to perish in the black thundersquall which had

come up so suddenly that longago summer afternoon. But to Captain Jim those fifty years were but as

"I walked the shore for months after that," he said sadly, "looking to find her dear, sweet little body; but the

sea never give her back to me. But I'll find her sometime, Mistress BlytheI'll find her sometime . She's

waiting for me. I wish I could tell you jest how she looked, but I can't. I've seen a fine, silvery mist hanging

over the bar at sunrise that seemed like herand then again I've seen a white birch in the woods back yander

that made me think of her. She had pale, brown hair and a little white, sweet face, and long slender fingers

like yours, Mistress Blythe, only browner, for she was a shore girl. Sometimes I wake up in the night and

hear the sea calling to me in the old way, and it seems as if lost Margaret called in it. And when there's a

storm and the waves are sobbing and moaning I hear her lamenting among them. And when they laugh on a

gay day it's HER laughlost Margaret's sweet, roguish, little laugh. The sea took her from me, but some day

"I am glad you have told me about her," said Anne. "I have often wondered why you had lived all your life

"I couldn't ever care for anyone else. Lost Margaret took my heart with herout there," said the old lover,

who had been faithful for fifty years to his drowned sweetheart. "You won't mind if I talk a good deal about

her, will you, Mistress Blythe? It's a pleasure to mefor all the pain went out of her memory years ago and

jest left its blessing. I know you'll never forget her, Mistress Blythe. And if the years, as I hope, bring other

little folks to your home, I want you to promise me that you'll tell THEM the story of lost Margaret, so that

"Anne," said Leslie, breaking abruptly a short silence, "you don't know how GOOD it is to be sitting here

They were sitting among the blueeyed grasses on the bank of the brook in Anne's garden. The water

sparkled and crooned past them; the birches threw dappled shadows over them; roses bloomed along the

walks. The sun was beginning to be low, and the air was full of woven music. There was one music of the

wind in the firs behind the house, and another of the waves on the bar, and still another from the distant bell

of the church near which the wee, white lady slept. Anne loved that bell, though it brought sorrowful thoughts

She looked curiously at Leslie, who had thrown down her sewing and spoken with a lack of restraint that was

"On that horrible night when you were so ill," Leslie went on, "I kept thinking that perhaps we'd have no

more talks and walks and WORKS together. And I realised just what your friendship had come to mean to

"It's true. That's exactly what I ama hateful little beast. There's something I've GOT to tell you, Anne. I

suppose it will make you despise me, but I MUST confess it. Anne, there have been times this past winter

"Well, it was only now and then you hated me, Leslie. Between times you loved me, I think."

"I certainly did. But that other horrid feeling was always there, spoiling it, back in my heart. I kept it

downsometimes I forgot it but sometimes it would surge up and take possession of me. I hated you

because I ENVIED youoh, I was sick with envy of you at times. You had a dear little homeand

loveand happinessand glad dreamseverything I wantedand never hadand never could have. Oh,

never could have! THAT was what stung. I wouldn't have envied you, if I had had any HOPE that life would

ever be different for me. But I hadn'tI hadn'tand it didn't seem FAIR. It made me rebelliousand it hurt

meand so I hated you at times. Oh, I was so ashamed of itI'm dying of shame nowbut I couldn't

That night, when I was afraid you mightn't liveI thought I was going to be punished for my

wickednessand I loved you so then. Anne, Anne, I never had anything to love since my mother died,

except Dick's old dogand it's so dreadful to have nothing to lovelife is so EMPTYand there's

NOTHING worse than emptiness and I might have loved you so muchand that horrible thing had

Leslie was trembling and growing almost incoherent with the violence of her emotion.

"Don't, Leslie," implored Anne, "oh, don't. I understand don't talk of it any more."

"I mustI must. When I knew you were going to live I vowed that I would tell you as soon as you were

wellthat I wouldn't go on accepting your friendship and companionship without telling you how unworthy

"Oh, I'm so gladso glad, Anne." Leslie clasped her brown, workhardened hands tightly together to still

their shaking. "But I want to tell you everything, now I've begun. You don't remember the first time I saw

"No, it was the night Gilbert and I came home. You were driving your geese down the hill. I should think I

DO remember it! I thought you were so beautifulI longed for weeks after to find out who you were."

"I knew who YOU were, although I had never seen either of you before. I had heard of the new doctor and

his bride who were coming to live in Miss Russell's little house. II hated you that very moment, Anne."

"I felt the resentment in your eyesthen I doubtedI thought I must be mistakenbecause WHY should it

"It was because you looked so happy. Oh, you'll agree with me now that I AM a hateful beastto hate

another woman just because she was happy,and when her happiness didn't take anything from me! That

was why I never went to see you. I knew quite well I ought to goeven our simple Four Winds customs

demanded that. But I couldn't. I used to watch you from my windowI could see you and your husband

strolling about your garden in the eveningor you running down the poplar lane to meet him. And it hurt

me. And yet in another way I wanted to go over. I felt that, if I were not so miserable, I could have liked you

and found in you what I've never had in my lifean intimate, REAL friend of my own age. And then you

remember that night at the shore? You were afraid I would think you crazy. You must have thought _I_ was."

"No, but I couldn't understand you, Leslie. One moment you drew me to youthe next you pushed me

"I was very unhappy that evening. I had had a hard day. Dick had been veryvery hard to manage that day.

Generally he is quite goodnatured and easily controlled, you know, Anne. But some days he is very

different. I was so heartsickI ran away to the shore as soon as he went to sleep. It was my only refuge. I sat

there thinking of how my poor father had ended his life, and wondering if I wouldn't be driven to it some day.

Oh, my heart was full of black thoughts! And then you came dancing along the cove like a glad,

lighthearted child. II hated you more then than I've ever done since. And yet I craved your friendship.

The one feeling swayed me one moment; the other feeling the next. When I got home that night I cried for

shame of what you must think of me. But it's always been just the same when I came over here. Sometimes

I'd be happy and enjoy my visit. And at other times that hideous feeling would mar it all. There were times

when everything about you and your house hurt me. You had so many dear little things I couldn't have. Do

you knowit's ridiculous but I had an especial spite at those china dogs of yours. There were times when

I wanted to catch up Gog and Magog and bang their pert black noses together! Oh, you smile, Annebut it

was never funny to me. I would come here and see you and Gilbert with your books and your flowers, and

your household goods, and your little family jokesand your love for each other showing in every look and

word, even when you didn't know itand I would go home toyou know what I went home to! Oh, Anne, I

don't believe I'm jealous and envious by nature. When I was a girl I lacked many things my schoolmates had,

but I never caredI never disliked them for it. But I seem to have grown so hateful"

"Leslie, dearest, stop blaming yourself. You are NOT hateful or jealous or envious. The life you have to live

has warped you a little, perhapsbut it would have ruined a nature less fine and noble than yours. I'm letting

you tell me all this because I believe it's better for you to talk it out and rid your soul of it. But don't blame

"Well, I won't. I just wanted you to know me as I am. That time you told me of your darling hope for the

spring was the worst of all, Anne. I shall never forgive myself for the way I behaved then. I repented it with

tears. And I DID put many a tender and loving thought of you into the little dress I made. But I might have

I was so glad when you brought the little dress; and since I had to lose little Joyce I like to think that the dress

"Anne, do you know, I believe I shall always love you after this. I don't think I'll ever feel that dreadful way

about you again. Talking it all out seems to have done away with it, somehow. It's very strange and I

thought it so real and bitter. It's like opening the door of a dark room to show some hideous creature you've

believed to be thereand when the light streams in your monster turns out to have been just a shadow,

"I hope you won't misunderstand me if I say something else. Anne, I was grieved to the core of my heart

when you lost your baby; and if I could have saved her for you by cutting off one of my hands I would have

done it. But your sorrow has brought us closer together. Your perfect happiness isn't a barrier any longer. Oh,

don't misunderstand, dearestI'm NOT glad that your happiness isn't perfect any longerI can say that

"I DO understand that, too, Leslie. Now, we'll just shut up the past and forget what was unpleasant in it. It's

all going to be different. We're both of the race of Joseph now. I think you've been wonderful wonderful.

And, Leslie, I can't help believing that life has something good and beautiful for you yet."

"No," she said dully. "There isn't any hope. Dick will never be betterand even if his memory were to come

backoh, Anne, it would be worse, even worse, than it is now. This is something you can't understand, you

"I'm gladI wanted you to knowbut I couldn't bring myself to talk of it if you hadn't known. Anne, it

seems to me that ever since I was twelve years old life has been bitter. Before that I had a happy childhood.

We were very poorbut we didn't mind. Father was so splendidso clever and loving and sympathetic. We

were chums as far back as I can remember. And mother was so sweet. She was very, very beautiful. I look

"She is mistakenor prejudiced. I think my figure IS better mother was slight and bent by hard

workbut she had the face of an angel. I used just to look up at her in worship. We all worshipped

Anne remembered that Miss Cornelia had given her a very different impression of Leslie's mother. But had

not love the truer vision? Still, it WAS selfish of Rose West to make her daughter marry Dick Moore.

"Kenneth was my brother," went on Leslie. "Oh, I can't tell you how I loved him. And he was cruelly killed.

"Anne, I saw his little face as the wheel went over him. He fell on his back. AnneAnneI can see it now.

I shall always see it. Anne, all I ask of heaven is that that recollection shall be blotted out of my memory. O

"Leslie, don't speak of it. I know the storydon't go into details that only harrow your soul up unavailingly.

"Then father's health got worse and he grew despondenthis mind became unbalancedyou've heard all

"After that I had just mother to live for. But I was very ambitious. I meant to teach and earn my way through

college. I meant to climb to the very topoh, I won't talk of that either. It's no use. You know what

happened. I couldn't see my dear little heartbroken mother, who had been such a slave all her life, turned out

of her home. Of course, I could have earned enough for us to live on. But mother COULDN'T leave her

home. She had come there as a brideand she had loved father soand all her memories were there. Even

yet, Anne, when I think that I made her last year happy I'm not sorry for what I did. As for DickI didn't

hate him when I married himI just felt for him the indifferent, friendly feeling I had for most of my

schoolmates. I knew he drank somebut I had never heard the story of the girl down at the fishing cove. If I

had, I COULDN'T have married him, even for mother's sake. AfterwardsI DID hate himbut mother

never knew. She diedand then I was alone. I was only seventeen and I was alone. Dick had gone off in the

Four Sisters. I hoped he wouldn't be home very much more. The sea had always been in his blood. I had no

other hope. Well, Captain Jim brought him home, as you knowand that's all there is to say. You know me

now, Annethe worst of methe barriers are all down. And you still want to be my friend?"

Anne looked up through the birches, at the white paperlantern of a half moon drifting downwards to the gulf

"I am your friend and you are mine, for always," she said. "Such a friend as I never had before. I have had

many dear and beloved friendsbut there is a something in you, Leslie, that I never found in anyone else.

You have more to offer me in that rich nature of yours, and I have more to give you than I had in my careless

They clasped hands and smiled at each other through the tears that filled the gray eyes and the blue.

Gilbert insisted that Susan should be kept on at the little house for the summer. Anne protested at first.

"Life here with just the two of us is so sweet, Gilbert. It spoils it a little to have anyone else. Susan is a dear

"You must take your doctor's advice," said Gilbert. "There's an old proverb to the effect that shoemakers'

wives go barefoot and doctors' wives die young. I don't mean that it shall be true in my household. You will

keep Susan until the old spring comes back into your step, and those little hollows on your cheeks fill out."

"You just take it easy, Mrs. Doctor, dear," said Susan, coming abruptly in. "Have a good time and do not

worry about the pantry. Susan is at the helm. There is no use in keeping a dog and doing your own barking. I

"Indeed you are not," laughed Anne. "I agree with Miss Cornelia that it's a scandal for a woman who isn't sick

"Oh, Cornelia!" said Susan, with ineffable contempt. "I think you have better sense, Mrs. Doctor, dear, than

to heed what Cornelia Bryant says. I cannot see why she must be always running down the men, even if she is

an old maid. _I_ am an old maid, but you never hear ME abusing the men. I like 'em. I would have married

one if I could. Is it not funny nobody ever asked me to marry him, Mrs. Doctor, dear? I am no beauty, but I

am as goodlooking as most of the married women you see. But I never had a beau. What do you suppose is

"That is what I have often thought, Mrs. Doctor, dear, and a great comfort it is. I do not mind nobody wanting

me if the Almighty decreed it so for His own wise purposes. But sometimes doubt creeps in, Mrs. Doctor,

dear, and I wonder if maybe the Old Scratch has not more to do with it than anyone else. I cannot feel

resigned THEN. But maybe," added Susan, brightening up, "I will have a chance to get married yet. I often

There never was a goose so gray but sometime soon or late Some honest gander came her way and took her

A woman cannot ever be sure of not being married till she is buried, Mrs. Doctor, dear, and meanwhile I will

make a batch of cherry pies. I notice the doctor favors 'em, and I DO like cooking for a man who appreciates

"I don't mind the world or the devil much, but the flesh DOES rather bother me," she admitted. "You always

look as cool as a cucumber, Anne, dearie. Do I smell cherry pie? If I do, ask me to stay to tea. Haven't tasted

a cherry pie this summer. My cherries have all been stolen by those scamps of Gilman boys from the Glen."

"Now, now, Cornelia," remonstrated Captain Jim, who had been reading a sea novel in a corner of the living

room, "you shouldn't say that about those two poor, motherless Gilman boys, unless you've got certain proof.

Jest because their father ain't none too honest isn't any reason for calling them thieves. It's more likely it's

"Robins!" said Miss Cornelia disdainfully. "Humph! Two legged robins, believe ME!"

"Well, most of the Four Winds robins ARE constructed on that principle," said Captain Jim gravely.

Miss Cornelia stared at him for a moment. Then she leaned back in her rocker and laughed long and

"Well, you HAVE got one on me at last, Jim Boyd, I'll admit. Just look how pleased he is, Anne, dearie,

grinning like a Chessycat. As for the robins' legs if robins have great, big, bare, sunburned legs, with ragged

trousers hanging on 'em, such as I saw up in my cherry tree one morning at sunrise last week, I'll beg the

Gilman boys' pardon. By the time I got down they were gone. I couldn't understand how they had disappeared

Captain Jim laughed and went away, regretfully declining an invitation to stay to supper and partake of

"I'm on my way to see Leslie and ask her if she'll take a boarder," Miss Cornelia resumed. "I'd a letter

yesterday from a Mrs. Daly in Toronto, who boarded a spell with me two years ago. She wanted me to take a

friend of hers for the summer. His name is Owen Ford, and he's a newspaper man, and it seems he's a

grandson of the schoolmaster who built this house. John Selwyn's oldest daughter married an Ontario man

named Ford, and this is her son. He wants to see the old place his grandparents lived in. He had a bad spell of

typhoid in the spring and hasn't got rightly over it, so his doctor has ordered him to the sea. He doesn't want

to go to the hotelhe just wants a quiet home place. I can't take him, for I have to be away in August. I've

been appointed a delegate to the W.F.M.S. convention in Kingsport and I'm going. I don't know whether

Leslie'll want to be bothered with him, either, but there's no one else. If she can't take him he'll have to go

"When you've seen her come back and help us eat our cherry pies," said Anne. "Bring Leslie and Dick, too, if

they can come. And so you're going to Kingsport? What a nice time you will have. I must give you a letter to

"I've prevailed on Mrs. Thomas Holt to go with me," said Miss Cornelia complacently. "It's time she had a

little holiday, believe ME. She has just about worked herself to death. Tom Holt can crochet beautifully, but

he can't make a living for his family. He never seems to be able to get up early enough to do any work, but I

Anne smiled. She had learned to discount largely Miss Cornelia's opinions of the Four Winds men. Otherwise

she must have believed them the most hopeless assortment of reprobates and ne'erdowells in the world,

with veritable slaves and martyrs for wives. This particular Tom Holt, for example, she knew to be a kind

husband, a much loved father, and an excellent neighbor. If he were rather inclined to be lazy, liking better

the fishing he had been born for than the farming he had not, and if he had a harmless eccentricity for doing

fancy work, nobody save Miss Cornelia seemed to hold it against him. His wife was a "hustler," who gloried

in hustling; his family got a comfortable living off the farm; and his strapping sons and daughters, inheriting

their mother's energy, were all in a fair way to do well in the world. There was not a happier household in

"Leslie's going to take him," she announced. "She jumped at the chance. She wants to make a little money to

shingle the roof of her house this fall, and she didn't know how she was going to manage it. I expect Captain

Jim'll be more than interested when he hears that a grandson of the Selwyns' is coming here. Leslie said to tell

you she hankered after cherry pie, but she couldn't come to tea because she has to go and hunt up her turkeys.

They've strayed away. But she said, if there was a piece left, for you to put it in the pantry and she'd run over

in the cat's light, when prowling's in order, to get it. You don't know, Anne, dearie, what good it did my heart

to hear Leslie send you a message like that, laughing like she used to long ago.

There's a great change come over her lately. She laughs and jokes like a girl, and from her talk I gather she's

"Every dayor else I'm over there," said Anne. "I don't know what I'd do without Leslie, especially just now

when Gilbert is so busy. He's hardly ever home except for a few hours in the wee sma's. He's really working

"They might better be content with their own doctor," said Miss Cornelia. "Though to be sure I can't blame

them, for he's a Methodist. Ever since Dr. Blythe brought Mrs. Allonby round folks think he can raise the

dead. I believe Dr. Dave is a mite jealousjust like a man. He thinks Dr. Blythe has too many newfangled

notions! `Well,' I says to him, `it was a newfangled notion saved Rhoda Allonby. If YOU'D been attending

her she'd have died, and had a tombstone saying it had pleased God to take her away.' Oh, I DO like to speak

my mind to Dr. Dave! He's bossed the Glen for years, and he thinks he's forgotten more than other people

ever knew. Speaking of doctors, I wish Dr. Blythe'd run over and see to that boil on Dick Moore's neck. It's

getting past Leslie's skill. I'm sure I don't know what Dick Moore wants to start in having boils foras if he

"Do you know, Dick has taken quite a fancy to me," said Anne. "He follows me round like a dog, and smiles

"Not at all. I rather like poor Dick Moore. He seems so pitiful and appealing, somehow."

"You wouldn't think him very appealing if you'd see him on his cantankerous days, believe ME. But I'm glad

you don't mind him it's all the nicer for Leslie. She'll have more to do when her boarder comes. I hope he'll

"I wonder why people so commonly suppose that if two individuals are both writers they must therefore be

hugely congenial," said Anne, rather scornfully. "Nobody would expect two blacksmiths to be violently

Nevertheless, she looked forward to the advent of Owen Ford with a pleasant sense of expectation. If he were

young and likeable he might prove a very pleasant addition to society in Four Winds. The latchstring of the

"The writer man has just arrived here. I'm going to drive him down to your place, and you can show him the

way over to Leslie's. It's shorter than driving round by the other road, and I'm in a mortal hurry. The Reese

baby has gone and fallen into a pail of hot water at the Glen, and got nearly scalded to death and they want

me right offto put a new skin on the child, I presume. Mrs. Reese is always so careless, and then expects

other people to mend her mistakes. You won't mind, will you, dearie? His trunk can go down tomorrow."

"You'll see what he's like outside when I take him down. As for what he's like inside only the Lord who made

him knows THAT. I'm not going to say another word, for every receiver in the Glen is down."

"Miss Cornelia evidently can't find much fault with Mr. Ford's looks, or she would find it in spite of the

receivers," said Anne. "I conclude therefore, Susan, that Mr. Ford is rather handsome than otherwise."

"Well, Mrs. Doctor, dear, I DO enjoy seeing a welllooking man," said Susan candidly. "Had I not better get

"No, Leslie is expecting him and has his supper ready. Besides, I want that strawberry pie for my own poor

man. He won't be home till late, so leave the pie and a glass of milk out for him, Susan."

"That I will, Mrs. Doctor, dear. Susan is at the helm. After all, it is better to give pie to your own men than to

strangers, who may be only seeking to devour, and the doctor himself is as welllooking a man as you often

When Owen Ford came Anne secretly admitted, as Miss Cornelia towed him in, that he was very

"welllooking" indeed. He was tall and broadshouldered, with thick, brown hair, finelycut nose and chin,

"And did you notice his ears and his teeth, Mrs. Doctor, dear?" queried Susan later on. "He has got the

nicestshaped ears I ever saw on a man's head. I am choice about ears. When I was young I was scared that I

might have to marry a man with ears like flaps. But I need not have worried, for never a chance did I have

Anne had not noticed Owen Ford's ears, but she did see his teeth, as his lips parted over them in a frank and

friendly smile. Unsmiling, his face was rather sad and absent in expression, not unlike the melancholy,

inscrutable hero of Anne's own early dreams; but mirth and humor and charm lighted it up when he smiled.

Certainly, on the outside, as Miss Cornelia said, Owen Ford was a very presentable fellow.

"You cannot realise how delighted I am to be here, Mrs. Blythe," he said, looking around him with eager,

interested eyes. "I have an odd feeling of coming home. My mother was born and spent her childhood here,

you know. She used to talk a great deal to me of her old home. I know the geography of it as well as of the

one I lived in, and, of course, she told me the story of the building of the house, and of my grandfather's

agonised watch for the Royal William. I had thought that so old a house must have vanished years ago, or I

"Old houses don't vanish easily on this enchanted coast," smiled Anne. "This is a `land where all things

always seem the same' nearly always, at least. John Selwyn's house hasn't even been much changed, and

outside the rosebushes your grandfather planted for his bride are blooming this very minute."

"How the thought links me with them! With your leave I must explore the whole place soon."

"Our latchstring will always be out for you," promised Anne. "And do you know that the old sea captain

who keeps the Four Winds light knew John Selwyn and his bride well in his boyhood? He told me their story

"It won't be difficult; we are all cronies of Captain Jim. He will be as eager to see you as you could be to see

him. Your grandmother shines like a star in his memory. But I think Mrs. Moore is expecting you. I'll show

Anne walked with him to the house up the brook, over a field that was as white as snow with daisies. A

boatload of people were singing far across the harbor. The sound drifted over the water like faint, unearthly

music windblown across a starlit sea. The big light flashed and beaconed. Owen Ford looked around him

"And so this is Four Winds," he said. "I wasn't prepared to find it quite so beautiful, in spite of all mother's

praises. What colors what scenerywhat charm! I shall get as strong as a horse in no time. And if

inspiration comes from beauty, I should certainly be able to begin my great Canadian novel here."

"Alackaday, no. I've never been able to get the right central idea for it. It lurks beyond meit

alluresand beckonsand recedes I almost grasp it and it is gone. Perhaps amid this peace and

loveliness, I shall be able to capture it. Miss Bryant tells me that you write."

"Oh, I do little things for children. I haven't done much since I was married. AndI have no designs on a

"I dare say it is beyond me as well. All the same I mean to have a try at it some day, if I can ever get time. A

newspaper man doesn't have much chance for that sort of thing. I've done a good deal of short story writing

for the magazines, but I've never had the leisure that seems to be necessary for the writing of a book. With

three months of liberty I ought to make a start, thoughif I could only get the necessary motif for itthe

An idea whisked through Anne's brain with a suddenness that made her jump. But she did not utter it, for they

had reached the Moore house. As they entered the yard Leslie came out on the veranda from the side door,

peering through the gloom for some sign of her expected guest. She stood just where the warm yellow light

flooded her from the open door. She wore a plain dress of cheap, creamtinted cotton voile, with the usual

girdle of crimson. Leslie was never without her touch of crimson. She had told Anne that she never felt

satisfied without a gleam of red somewhere about her, if it were only a flower. To Anne, it always seemed to

symbolise Leslie's glowing, pentup personality, denied all expression save in that flaming glint. Leslie's

dress was cut a little away at the neck and had short sleeves. Her arms gleamed like ivorytinted marble.

Every exquisite curve of her form was outlined in soft darkness against the light. Her hair shone in it like

Anne heard her companion give a gasp. Even in the dusk she could see the amazement and admiration on his

"II never saw anything like her," he answered, rather dazedly. "I wasn't preparedI didn't expectgood

heavens, one DOESN'T expect a goddess for a landlady ! Why, if she were clothed in a gown of seapurple,

with a rope of amethysts in her hair, she would be a veritable seaqueen. And she takes in boarders!"

"Even goddesses must live," said Anne. "And Leslie isn't a goddess. She's just a very beautiful woman, as

"Yes,he's mentally deficient, or something of the sort, isn't he? But she said nothing about Mrs. Moore,

and I supposed she'd be the usual hustling country housewife who takes in boarders to earn an honest penny."

"Well, that's just what Leslie is doing," said Anne crisply. "And it isn't altogether pleasant for her, either. I

hope you won't mind Dick. If you do, please don't let Leslie see it. It would hurt her horribly. He's just a big

"Oh, I won't mind him. I don't suppose I'll be much in the house anyhow, except for meals. But what a shame

Leslie had gone back into the house and now met them at the front door. She greeted Owen Ford with cold

civility, and told him in a businesslike tone that his room and his supper were ready for him. Dick, with a

pleased grin, shambled upstairs with the valise, and Owen Ford was installed as an inmate of the old house

"I have a little brown cocoon of an idea that may possibly expand into a magnificent moth of fulfilment,"

Anne told Gilbert when she reached home. He had returned earlier than she had expected, and was enjoying

Susan's cherry pie. Susan herself hovered in the background, like a rather grim but beneficent guardian spirit,

"He is about thirty or thirtyfive, I think, and he meditates writing a novel. His voice is pleasant and his smile

delightful, and he knows how to dress. He looks as if life hadn't been altogether easy for him, somehow."

Owen Ford came over the next evening with a note to Anne from Leslie; they spent the sunset time in the

garden and then went for a moonlit sail on the harbor, in the little boat Gilbert had set up for summer outings.

They liked Owen immensely and had that feeling of having known him for many years which distinguishes

the freemasonry of the house of Joseph. "He is as nice as his ears, Mrs. Doctor, dear," said Susan, when he

had gone. He had told Susan that he had never tasted anything like her strawberry shortcake and Susan's

"He has got a way with him." she reflected, as she cleared up the relics of the supper. "It is real queer he is

not married, for a man like that could have anybody for the asking. Well, maybe he is like me, and has not

Susan really grew quite romantic in her musings as she washed the supper dishes.

Two nights later Anne took Owen Ford down to Four Winds Point to introduce him to Captain Jim. The

clover fields along the harbor shore were whitening in the western wind, and Captain Jim had one of his

finest sunsets on exhibition. He himself had just returned from a trip over the harbor.

"I had to go over and tell Henry Pollack he was dying. Everybody else was afraid to tell him. They expected

he'd take on turrible, for he's been dreadful determined to live, and been making no end of plans for the fall.

His wife thought he oughter be told and that I'd be the best one to break it to him that he couldn't get better.

Henry and me are old cronieswe sailed in the Gray Gull for years together. Well, I went over and sat down

by Henry's bed and I says to him, says I, jest right out plain and simple, for if a thing's got to be told it may as

well be told first as last, says I, `Mate, I reckon you've got your sailing orders this time,' I was sorter quaking

inside, for it's an awful thing to have to tell a man who hain't any idea he's dying that he is. But lo and behold,

Mistress Blythe, Henry looks up at me, with those bright old black eyes of his in his wizened face and says,

says he, `Tell me something I don't know, Jim Boyd, if you want to give me information. I've known THAT

for a week.' I was too astonished to speak, and Henry, he chuckled. `To see you coming in here,' says he,

`with your face as solemn as a tombstone and sitting down there with your hands clasped over your stomach,

and passing me out a bluemouldy old item of news like that! It'd make a cat laugh, Jim Boyd,' says he.

`Who told you?' says I, stupid like. `Nobody,' says he. `A week ago Tuesday night I was lying here

awakeand I jest knew. I'd suspicioned it before, but then I KNEW. I've been keeping up for the wife's sake.

And I'd LIKE to have got that barn built, for Eben'll never get it right. But anyhow, now that you've eased

your mind, Jim, put on a smile and tell me something interesting,' Well, there it was. They'd been so scared to

tell him and he knew it all the time. Strange how nature looks out for us, ain't it, and lets us know what we

should know when the time comes? Did I never tell you the yarn about Henry getting the fish hook in his

"Well, him and me had a laugh over it today. It happened nigh unto thirty years ago. Him and me and several

more was out mackerel fishing one day. It was a great daynever saw such a school of mackerel in the

gulfand in the general excitement Henry got quite wild and contrived to stick a fish hook clean through

one side of his nose. Well, there he was; there was barb on one end and a big piece of lead on the other, so it

couldn't be pulled out. We wanted to take him ashore at once, but Henry was game; he said he'd be jiggered if

he'd leave a school like that for anything short of lockjaw; then he kept fishing away, hauling in hand over

fist and groaning between times. Fin'lly the school passed and we come in with a load; I got a file and begun

to try to file through that hook. I tried to be as easy as I could, but you should have heard Henryno, you

shouldn't either. It was well no ladies were around. Henry wasn't a swearing man, but he'd heard some few

matters of that sort along shore in his time, and he fished 'em all out of his recollection and hurled 'em at me.

Fin'lly he declared he couldn't stand it and I had no bowels of compassion. So we hitched up and I drove him

to a doctor in Charlottetown, thirtyfive milesthere weren't none nearer in them dayswith that blessed

hook still hanging from his nose. When we got there old Dr. Crabb jest took a file and filed that hook jest the

same as I'd tried to do, only he weren't a mite particular about doing it easy!"

Captain Jim's visit to his old friend had revived many recollections and he was now in the full tide of

"Henry was asking me today if I remembered the time old Father Chiniquy blessed Alexander MacAllister's

boat. Another odd yarnand true as gospel. I was in the boat myself. We went out, him and me, in

Alexander MacAllister's boat one morning at sunrise. Besides, there was a French boy in the boatCatholic

of course. You know old Father Chiniquy had turned Protestant, so the Catholics hadn't much use for him.

Well, we sat out in the gulf in the broiling sun till noon, and not a bite did we get. When we went ashore old

Father Chiniquy had to go, so he said in that polite way of his, `I'm very sorry I cannot go out with you dis

afternoon, Mr. MacAllister, but I leave you my blessing. You will catch a t'ousand dis afternoon. `Well, we

did not catch a thousand, but we caught exactly nine hundred and ninetyninethe biggest catch for a small

boat on the whole north shore that summer. Curious, wasn't it? Alexander MacAllister, he says to Andrew

Peters, `Well, and what do you think of Father Chiniquy now?' `Vell,' growled Andrew, `I t'ink de old devil

"Do you know who Mr. Ford is, Captain Jim?" asked Anne, seeing that Captain Jim's fountain of

"I never was any hand at guessing, Mistress Blythe, and yet somehow when I come in I thought, `Where have

"Think of a September morning many years ago," said Anne, softly. "Think of a ship sailing up the

harbora ship long waited for and despaired of. Think of the day the Royal William came in and the first

"They're Persis Selwyn's eyes," he almost shouted. "You can't be her sonyou must be her"

"Alice Selwyn's son! Lord, but you're welcome! Many's the time I've wondered where the descendants of the

schoolmaster were living. I knew there was none on the Island. AliceAlicethe first baby ever born in

that little house. No baby ever brought more joy! I've dandled her a hundred times. It was from my knee she

took her first steps alone. Can't I see her mother's face watching herand it was near sixty years ago. Is she

"Oh, it doesn't seem right that I should be living to hear that," sighed Captain Jim. "But I'm heartglad to see

you. It's brought back my youth for a little while. You don't know yet what a boon THAT is. Mistress Blythe

Captain Jim was still more excited when he discovered that Owen Ford was what he called a "real writing

man." He gazed at him as at a superior being. Captain Jim knew that Anne wrote, but he had never taken that

fact very seriously. Captain Jim thought women were delightful creatures, who ought to have the vote, and

everything else they wanted, bless their hearts; but he did not believe they could write.

"Jest look at A Mad Love," he would protest. "A woman wrote that and jest look at itone hundred and

three chapters when it could all have been told in ten. A writing woman never knows when to stop; that's the

"Mr. Ford wants to hear some of your stories, Captain Jim" said Anne. "Tell him the one about the captain

This was Captain Jim's best story. It was a compound of horror and humor, and though Anne had heard it

several times she laughed as heartily and shivered as fearsomely over it as Mr. Ford did. Other tales followed,

for Captain Jim had an audience after his own heart. He told how his vessel had been run down by a steamer;

how he had been boarded by Malay pirates; how his ship had caught fire; how he helped a political prisoner

escape from a South African republic; how he had been wrecked one fall on the Magdalens and stranded

there for the winter; how a tiger had broken loose on board ship; how his crew had mutinied and marooned

him on a barren islandthese and many other tales, tragic or humorous or grotesque, did Captain Jim relate.

The mystery of the sea, the fascination of far lands, the lure of adventure, the laughter of the worldhis

hearers felt and realised them all. Owen Ford listened, with his head on his hand, and the First Mate purring

on his knee, his brilliant eyes fastened on Captain Jim's rugged, eloquent face.

"Won't you let Mr. Ford see your lifebook, Captain Jim?" asked Anne, when Captain Jim finally declared

"Oh, he don't want to be bothered with THAT," protested Captain Jim, who was secretly dying to show it.

"I should like nothing better than to see it, Captain Boyd," said Owen. "If it is half as wonderful as your tales

With pretended reluctance Captain Jim dug his lifebook out of his old chest and handed it to Owen.

"I reckon you won't care to wrastle long with my old hand o' write. I never had much schooling," he observed

carelessly. "Just wrote that there to amuse my nephew Joe. He's always wanting stories. Comes here

yesterday and says to me, reproachfullike, as I was lifting a twentypound codfish out of my boat, `Uncle

Jim, ain't a codfish a dumb animal?' I'd been atelling him, you see, that he must be real kind to dumb

animals, and never hurt 'em in any way. I got out of the scrape by saying a codfish was dumb enough but it

wasn't an animal, but Joe didn't look satisfied, and I wasn't satisfied myself. You've got to be mighty careful

While talking, Captain Jim watched Owen Ford from the corner of his eye as the latter examined the

lifebook; and presently observing that his guest was lost in its pages, he turned smilingly to his cupboard

and proceeded to make a pot of tea. Owen Ford separated himself from the lifebook, with as much

reluctance as a miser wrenches himself from his gold, long enough to drink his tea, and then returned to it

"Oh, you can take that thing home with you if you want to," said Captain Jim, as if the "thing" were not his

most treasured possession. "I must go down and pull my boat up a bit on the skids. There's a wind coming.

Owen Ford accepted the offer of the lifebook gladly. On their way home Anne told him the story of lost

"That old captain is a wonderful old fellow," he said. "What a life he has led! Why, the man had more

adventures in one week of his life than most of us have in a lifetime. Do you really think his tales are all

"I certainly do. I am sure Captain Jim could not tell a lie; and besides, all the people about here say that

everything happened as he relates it. There used to be plenty of his old shipmates alive to corroborate him.

He's one of the last of the old type of P.E. Island seacaptains. They are almost extinct now."

Owen Ford came over to the little house the next morning in a state of great excitement. "Mrs. Blythe, this is

a wonderful bookabsolutely wonderful. If I could take it and use the material for a book I feel certain I

could make the novel of the year out of it. Do you suppose Captain Jim would let me do it?"

"Let you! I'm sure he would be delighted," cried Anne. "I admit that it was what was in my head when I took

you down last night. Captain Jim has always been wishing he could get somebody to write his lifebook

"Will you go down to the Point with me this evening, Mrs. Blythe? I'll ask him about that lifebook myself,

but I want you to tell him that you told me the story of lost Margaret and ask him if he will let me use it as a

thread of romance with which to weave the stories of the lifebook into a harmonious whole."

Captain Jim was more excited than ever when Owen Ford told him of his plan. At last his cherished dream

was to be realized and his "lifebook" given to the world. He was also pleased that the story of lost Margaret

"We'll collaborate," cried Owen delightedly. "You will give the soul and I the body. Oh, we'll write a famous

"And to think my book is to be writ by the schoolmaster's grandson!" exclaimed Captain Jim. "Lad, your

grandfather was my dearest friend. I thought there was nobody like him. I see now why I had to wait so long.

It couldn't be writ till the right man come. You BELONG hereyou've got the soul of this old north shore in

It was arranged that the tiny room off the living room at the lighthouse should be given over to Owen for a

workshop. It was necessary that Captain Jim should be near him as he wrote, for consultation upon many

He began work on the book the very next morning, and flung himself into it heart and soul. As for Captain

Jim, he was a happy man that summer. He looked upon the little room where Owen worked as a sacred

shrine. Owen talked everything over with Captain Jim, but he would not let him see the manuscript.

"You must wait until it is published," he said. "Then you'll get it all at once in its best shape."

He delved into the treasures of the lifebook and used them freely. He dreamed and brooded over lost

Margaret until she became a vivid reality to him and lived in his pages. As the book progressed it took

possession of him and he worked at it with feverish eagerness. He let Anne and Leslie read the manuscript

and criticise it; and the concluding chapter of the book, which the critics, later on, were pleased to call idyllic,

"I knew when I looked at Owen Ford that he was the very man for it," she told Gilbert. "Both humor and

passion were in his face, and that, together with the art of expression, was just what was necessary for the

writing of such a book. As Mrs. Rachel would say, he was predestined for the part."

Owen Ford wrote in the mornings. The afternoons were generally spent in some merry outing with the

Blythes. Leslie often went, too, for Captain Jim took charge of Dick frequently, in order to set her free. They

went boating on the harbor and up the three pretty rivers that flowed into it; they had clambakes on the bar

and musselbakes on the rocks; they picked strawberries on the sanddunes; they went out codfishing with

Captain Jim; they shot plover in the shore fields and wild ducks in the coveat least, the men did. In the

evenings they rambled in the lowlying, daisied, shore fields under a golden moon, or they sat in the living

room at the little house where often the coolness of the sea breeze justified a driftwood fire, and talked of the

thousand and one things which happy, eager, clever young people can find to talk about.

Ever since the day on which she had made her confession to Anne Leslie had been a changed creature. There

was no trace of her old coldness and reserve, no shadow of her old bitterness. The girlhood of which she had

been cheated seemed to come back to her with the ripeness of womanhood; she expanded like a flower of

flame and perfume; no laugh was readier than hers, no wit quicker, in the twilight circles of that enchanted

summer. When she could not be with them all felt that some exquisite savor was lacking in their intercourse.

Her beauty was illumined by the awakened soul within, as some rosy lamp might shine through a flawless

vase of alabaster. There were hours when Anne's eyes seemed to ache with the splendor of her. As for Owen

Ford, the "Margaret" of his book, although she had the soft brown hair and elfin face of the real girl who had

vanished so long ago, "pillowed where lost Atlantis sleeps," had the personality of Leslie Moore, as it was

All in all, it was a nevertobeforgotten summerone of those summers which come seldom into any life,

but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their goingone of those summers which, in a fortunate

combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doings, come as near to perfection as

"Too good to last," Anne told herself with a little sigh, on the September day when a certain nip in the wind

and a certain shade of intense blue on the gulf water said that autumn was hard by.

That evening Owen Ford told them that he had finished his book and that his vacation must come to an end.

"I have a good deal to do to it yetrevising and pruning and so forth," he said, "but in the main it's done. I

wrote the last sentence this morning. If I can find a publisher for it it will probably be out next summer or

Owen had not much doubt that he would find a publisher. He knew that he had written a great booka book

that would score a wonderful successa book that would LIVE. He knew that it would bring him both fame

and fortune; but when he had written the last line of it he had bowed his head on the manuscript and so sat for

"I'm so sorry Gilbert is away," said Anne. "He had to goAllan Lyons at the Glen has met with a serious

accident. He will not likely be home till very late. But he told me to tell you he'd be up and over early enough

in the morning to see you before you left. It's too provoking. Susan and I had planned such a nice little

She was sitting beside the garden brook on the little rustic seat Gilbert had built. Owen Ford stood before her,

leaning against the bronze column of a yellow birch. He was very pale and his face bore the marks of the

preceding sleepless night. Anne, glancing up at him, wondered if, after all, his summer had brought him the

strength it should. Had he worked too hard over his book? She remembered that for a week he had not been

"I'm rather glad the doctor is away," said Owen slowly. "I wanted to see you alone, Mrs. Blythe. There is

something I must tell somebody, or I think it will drive me mad. I've been trying for a week to look it in the

faceand I can't. I know I can trust youand, besides, you will understand. A woman with eyes like yours

always understands. You are one of the folks people instinctively tell things to. Mrs. Blythe, I love Leslie.

His voice suddenly broke with the suppressed passion of his utterance. He turned his head away and hid his

face on his arm. His whole form shook. Anne sat looking at him, pale and aghast. She had never thought of

this! And yethow was it she had never thought of it? It now seemed a natural and inevitable thing. She

wondered at her own blindness. Butbutthings like this did not happen in Four Winds. Elsewhere in the

world human passions might set at defiance human conventions and lawsbut not HERE, surely. Leslie had

kept summer boarders off and on for ten years, and nothing like this had happened. But perhaps they had not

been like Owen Ford; and the vivid, LIVING Leslie of this summer was not the cold, sullen girl of other

years. Oh, SOMEBODY should have thought of this! Why hadn't Miss Cornelia thought of it? Miss Cornelia

was always ready enough to sound the alarm where men were concerned. Anne felt an unreasonable

resentment against Miss Cornelia. Then she gave a little inward groan. No matter who was to blame the

mischief was done. And Lesliewhat of Leslie? It was for Leslie Anne felt most concerned.

"Nono,unless she has guessed it. You surely don't think I'd be cad and scoundrel enough to tell her, Mrs.

Blythe. I couldn't help loving herthat's alland my misery is greater than I can bear."

"Does SHE care?" asked Anne. The moment the question crossed her lips she felt that she should not have

"Nono, of course not. But I could make her care if she were freeI know I could."

"She does careand he knows it," thought Anne. Aloud she said, sympathetically but decidedly:

"But she is not free, Mr. Ford. And the only thing you can do is to go away in silence and leave her to her

"I knowI know," groaned Owen. He sat down on the grassy bank and stared moodily into the amber water

beneath him. "I know there's nothing to donothing but to say conventionally, `Good bye, Mrs. Moore.

Thank you for all your kindness to me this summer,' just as I would have said it to the sonsy, bustling,

keeneyed housewife I expected her to be when I came. Then I'll pay my board money like any honest

boarder and go! Oh, it's very simple. No doubtno perplexitya straight road to the end of the world!

And I'll walk ityou needn't fear that I won't, Mrs. Blythe. But it would be easier to walk over redhot

Anne flinched with the pain of his voice. And there was so little she could say that would be adequate to the

situation. Blame was out of the questionadvice was not neededsympathy was mocked by the man's stark

agony. She could only feel with him in a maze of compassion and regret. Her heart ached for Leslie! Had not

"It wouldn't be so hard to go and leave her if she were only happy," resumed Owen passionately. "But to

think of her living deathto realise what it is to which I do leave her! THAT is the worst of all. I would give

my life to make her happyand I can do nothing even to help hernothing. She is bound forever to that

poor wretchwith nothing to look forward to but growing old in a succession of empty, meaningless, barren

years. It drives me mad to think of it. But I must go through my life, never seeing her, but always knowing

"It is very hard," said Anne sorrowfully. "Weher friends hereall know how hard it is for her."

"Her beauty is the least of her dowerand she is the most beautiful woman I've ever known. That laugh of

hers! I've angled all summer to evoke that laugh, just for the delight of hearing it. And her eyes they are as

deep and blue as the gulf out there. I never saw such bluenessand gold! Did you ever see her hair down,

"I didonce. I had gone down to the Point to go fishing with Captain Jim but it was too rough to go out, so I

came back. She had taken the opportunity of what she expected to be an afternoon alone to wash her hair, and

she was standing on the veranda in the sunshine to dry it. It fell all about her to her feet in a fountain of living

gold. When she saw me she hurried in, and the wind caught her hair and swirled it all around herDanae in

her cloud. Somehow, just then the knowledge that I loved her came home to meand realised that I had

loved her from the moment I first saw her standing against the darkness in that glow of light. And she must

live on herepetting and soothing Dick, pinching and saving for a mere existence, while I spend my life

longing vainly for her, and debarred, by that very fact, from even giving her the little help a friend might. I

walked the shore last night, almost till dawn, and thrashed it all out over and over again. And yet, in spite of

everything, I can't find it in my heart to be sorry that I came to Four Winds. It seems to me that, bad as

everything is, it would be still worse never to have known Leslie. It's burning, searing pain to love her and

leave herbut not to have loved her is unthinkable. I suppose all this sounds very crazyall these terrible

emotions always do sound foolish when we put them into our inadequate words. They are not meant to be

spokenonly felt and endured. I shouldn't have spokenbut it has helped some. At least, it has given me

strength to go away respectably tomorrow morning, without making a scene. You'll write me now and then,

"Yes," said Anne. "Oh, I'm so sorry you are goingwe'll miss you sowe've all been such friends! If it

were not for this you could come back other summers. Perhaps, even yetbyandbywhen you've

"I shall never forgetand I shall never come back to Four Winds," said Owen briefly.

Silence and twilight fell over the garden. Far away the sea was lapping gently and monotonously on the bar.

The wind of evening in the poplars sounded like some sad, weird, old runesome broken dream of old

memories. A slender shapely young aspen rose up before them against the fine maize and emerald and paling

rose of the western sky, which brought out every leaf and twig in dark, tremulous, elfin loveliness.

"Isn't that beautiful?" said Owen, pointing to it with the air of a man who puts a certain conversation behind

"It's so beautiful that it hurts me," said Anne softly. "Perfect things like that always did hurt meI remember

I called it `the queer ache' when I was a child. What is the reason that pain like this seems inseparable from

perfection? Is it the pain of finalitywhen we realise that there can be nothing beyond but retrogression?"

"Perhaps," said Owen dreamily, "it is the prisoned infinite in us calling out to its kindred infinite as expressed

"You seem to have a cold in the head. Better rub some tallow on your nose when you go to bed," said Miss

Cornelia, who had come in through the little gate between the firs in time to catch Owen's last remark. Miss

Cornelia liked Owen; but it was a matter of principle with her to visit any "highfalutin" language from a

Miss Cornelia personated the comedy that ever peeps around the corner at the tragedy of life. Anne, whose

nerves had been rather strained, laughed hysterically, and even Owen smiled. Certainly, sentiment and

passion had a way of shrinking out of sight in Miss Cornelia's presence. And yet to Anne nothing seemed

quite as hopeless and dark and painful as it had seemed a few moments before. But sleep was far from her

Owen Ford left Four Winds the next morning. In the evening Anne went over to see Leslie, but found

nobody. The house was locked and there was no light in any window. It looked like a home left soulless.

Gilbert having occasion to go in the evening to the fishing cove, Anne drove with him to the Point, intending

to stay awhile with Captain Jim. But the great light, cutting its swathes through the fog of the autumn

"I don't want to go to the covebut I'll go over the channel with you, and roam about on the sand shore till

Alone on the sands of the bar Anne gave herself up to the eerie charm of the night. It was warm for

September, and the late afternoon had been very foggy; but a full moon had in part lessened the fog and

transformed the harbor and the gulf and the surrounding shores into a strange, fantastic, unreal world of pale

silver mist, through which everything loomed phantomlike. Captain Josiah Crawford's black schooner

sailing down the channel, laden with potatoes for Bluenose ports, was a spectral ship bound for a far

uncharted land, ever receding, never to be reached. The calls of unseen gulls overhead were the cries of the

souls of doomed seamen. The little curls of foam that blew across the sand were elfin things stealing up from

the seacaves. The big, roundshouldered sanddunes were the sleeping giants of some old northern tale.

The lights that glimmered palely across the harbor were the delusive beacons on some coast of fairyland.

Anne pleased herself with a hundred fancies as she wandered through the mist. It was

But was she alone? Something loomed in the mist before hertook shape and formsuddenly moved

"If it comes to that, whatever are YOU doing here?" said Leslie, trying to laugh. The effort was a failure. She

looked very pale and tired; but the love locks under her scarlet cap were curling about her face and eyes like

"I'm waiting for Gilberthe's over at the Cove. I intended to stay at the light, but Captain Jim is away."

"Well, _I_ came here because I wanted to walkand walkand WALK," said Leslie restlessly. "I couldn't

on the rock shorethe tide was too high and the rocks prisoned me. I had to come hereor I should have

gone mad, I think. I rowed myself over the channel in Captain Jim's flat. I've been here for an hour.

"Leslie, dearest, what is the trouble?" asked Anne, though she knew too well already.

"I can't tell youdon't ask me . I wouldn't mind your knowing I wish you did knowbut I can't tell

youI can't tell anyone. I've been such a fool, Anneand oh, it hurts so terribly to be a fool. There's

"How did you know?" she cried. "Anne, how did you know? Oh, is it written in my face for everyone to see?

"No, no. II can't tell you how I knew. It just came into my mind, somehow. Leslie, don't look at me like

"Do you despise me?" demanded Leslie in a fierce, low tone. "Do you think I'm wickedunwomanly? Or do

"I don't think you any of those things. Come, dear, let's just talk it over sensibly, as we might talk over any

other of the great crises of life. You've been brooding over it and let yourself drift into a morbid view of it.

You know you have a little tendency to do that about everything that goes wrong, and you promised me that

"Butoh, it's soso shameful," murmured Leslie. "To love himunsoughtand when I'm not free to love

"There's nothing shameful about it. But I'm very sorry that you have learned to care for Owen, because, as

"I didn't LEARN to care," said Leslie, walking on and speaking passionately. "If it had been like that I could

have prevented it. I never dreamed of such a thing until that day, a week ago, when he told me he had

finished his book and must soon go away. Then then I knew. I felt as if someone had struck me a terrible

blow. I didn't say anythingI couldn't speakbut I don't know what I looked like. I'm so afraid my face

Anne was miserably silent, hampered by her deductions from her conversation with Owen. Leslie went on

"I was so happy all this summer, Annehappier than I ever was in my life. I thought it was because

everything had been made clear between you and me, and that it was our friendship which made life seem so

beautiful and full once more. And it WAS, in partbut not alloh, not nearly all. I know now why

everything was so different. And now it's all overand he has gone. How can I live, Anne? When I turned

back into the house this morning after he had gone the solitude struck me like a blow in the face."

"It won't seem so hard by and by, dear," said Anne, who always felt the pain of her friends so keenly that she

could not speak easy, fluent words of comforting. Besides, she remembered how well meant speeches had

"Oh, it seems to me it will grow harder all the time," said Leslie miserably. "I've nothing to look forward to.

Morning will come after morningand he will not come backhe will never come back. Oh, when I think

that I will never see him again I feel as if a great brutal hand had twisted itself among my heartstrings, and

was wrenching them. Once, long ago, I dreamed of loveand I thought it must be beautifuland

NOWits like THIS. When he went away yesterday morning he was so cold and indifferent. He said

`Good bye, Mrs. Moore' in the coldest tone in the worldas if we had not even been friendsas if I meant

absolutely nothing to him. I know I don'tI didn't want him to carebut he MIGHT have been a little

"Oh, I wish Gilbert would come," thought Anne. She was racked between her sympathy for Leslie and the

necessity of avoiding anything that would betray Owen's confidence. She knew why his goodbye had been

so coldwhy it could not have the cordiality that their goodcomradeship demandedbut she could not tell

"Oh, I don't knowyou and Gilbert are such CHUMS. I don't see how you could help telling him

"I couldn't have HIM know. But I'm glad YOU know. I would feel guilty if there were anything I was

ashamed to tell you. I hope Miss Cornelia won't find out. Sometimes I feel as if those terrible, kind brown

eyes of hers read my very soul. Oh, I wish this mist would never liftI wish I could just stay in it forever,

hidden away from every living being. I don't see how I can go on with life. This summer has been so full. I

never was lonely for a moment. Before Owen came there used to be horrible momentswhen I had been

with you and Gilbertand then had to leave you. You two would walk away together and I would walk

away ALONE. After Owen came he was always there to walk home with mewe would laugh and talk as

you and Gilbert were doingthere were no more lonely, envious moments for me. And NOW! Oh, yes, I've

been a fool. Let's have done talking about my folly. I'll never bore you with it again."

"Here is Gilbert, and you are coming back with us," said Anne, who had no intention of leaving Leslie to

wander alone on the sandbar on such a night and in such a mood. "There's plenty of room in our boat for

"Oh, I suppose I must reconcile myself to being the odd one again," said poor Leslie with another bitter

laugh. "Forgive me, Annethat was hateful. I ought to be thankfuland I AMthat I have two good

friends who are glad to count me in as a third. Don't mind my hateful speeches. I just seem to be one great

"Leslie seemed very quiet tonight, didn't she?" said Gilbert, when he and Anne reached home. "What in the

"Oh, she was tiredand you know she likes to go to the shore after one of Dick's bad days."

"What a pity she hadn't met and married a fellow like Ford long ago," ruminated Gilbert. "They'd have made

"For pity's sake, Gilbert, don't develop into a matchmaker. It's an abominable profession for a man," cried

Anne rather sharply, afraid that Gilbert might blunder on the truth if he kept on in this strain.

"Bless us, Annegirl, I'm not matchmaking," protested Gilbert, rather surprised at her tone. "I was only

"I've been reading obituary notices," said Miss Cornelia, laying down the Daily Enterprise and taking up her

The harbor was lying black and sullen under a dour November sky; the wet, dead leaves clung drenched and

sodden to the window sills; but the little house was gay with firelight and springlike with Anne's ferns and

"It's always summer here, Anne," Leslie had said one day; and all who were the guests of that house of

"The Enterprise seems to run to obituaries these days," quoth Miss Cornelia. "It always has a couple of

columns of them, and I read every line. It's one of my forms of recreation, especially when there's some

She's gone to be with her Maker, Never more to roam. She used to play and sing with joy The song of Home,

Who says we haven't any poetical talent on the Island! Have you ever noticed what heaps of good people die,

Anne, dearie? It's kind of pitiful. Here's ten obituaries, and every one of them saints and models, even the

men. Here's old Peter Stimson, who has `left a large circle of friends to mourn his untimely loss.' Lord, Anne,

dearie, that man was eighty, and everybody who knew him had been wishing him dead these thirty years.

Read obituaries when you're blue, Anne, dearieespecially the ones of folks you know. If you've any sense

of humor at all they'll cheer you up, believe ME. I just wish _I_ had the writing of the obituaries of some

people. Isn't `obituary' an awful ugly word? This very Peter I've been speaking of had a face exactly like one.

I never saw it but I thought of the word OBITUARY then and there. There's only one uglier word that I know

of, and that's RELICT. Lord, Anne, dearie, I may be an old maid, but there's this comfort in itI'll never be

"It IS an ugly word," said Anne, laughing. "Avonlea graveyard was full of old tombstones `sacred to the

memory of SoandSo, RELICT of the late SoandSo.' It always made me think of something worn out

and moth eaten. Why is it that so many of the words connected with death are so disagreeable? I do wish that

the custom of calling a dead body `the remains' could be abolished. I positively shiver when I hear the

undertaker say at a funeral, `All who wish to see the remains please step this way.' It always gives me the

"Well, all I hope," said Miss Cornelia calmly, "is that when I'm dead nobody will call me `our departed

sister.' I took a scunner at this sisterandbrothering business five years ago when there was a travelling

evangelist holding meetings at the Glen. I hadn't any use for him from the start. I felt in my bones that there

was something wrong with him. And there was. Mind you, he was pretending to be a

PresbyterianPresbyTARian, HE called itand all the time he was a Methodist. He brothered and sistered

everybody. He had a large circle of relations, that man had. He clutched my hand fervently one night, and

said imploringly, `My DEAR sister Bryant, are you a Christian?' I just looked him over a bit, and then I said

calmly, `The only brother I ever had, MR. Fiske, was buried fifteen years ago, and I haven't adopted any

since. As for being a Christian, I was that, I hope and believe, when you were crawling about the floor in

petticoats.' THAT squelched him, believe ME. Mind you, Anne dearie, I'm not down on all evangelists.

We've had some real fine, earnest men, who did a lot of good and made the old sinners squirm. But this

Fiskeman wasn't one of them. I had a good laugh all to myself one evening. Fiske had asked all who were

Christians to stand up. _I_ didn't, believe me! I never had any use for that sort of thing. But most of them did,

and then he asked all who wanted to be Christians to stand up. Nobody stirred for a spell, so Fiske started up

a hymn at the top of his voice. Just in front of me poor little Ikey Baker was sitting in the Millison pew. He

was a home boy, ten years old, and Millison just about worked him to death. The poor little creature was

always so tired he fell asleep right off whenever he went to church or anywhere he could sit still for a few

minutes. He'd been sleeping all through the meeting, and I was thankful to see the poor child getting a rest,

believe ME. Well, when Fiske's voice went soaring skyward and the rest joined in, poor Ikey wakened with a

start. He thought it was just an ordinary singing and that everybody ought to stand up, so he scrambled to his

feet mighty quick, knowing he'd get a combing down from Maria Millison for sleeping in meeting. Fiske saw

him, stopped and shouted, `Another soul saved! Glory Hallelujah!' And there was poor, frightened Ikey, only

half awake and yawning, never thinking about his soul at all. Poor child, he never had time to think of

"Leslie went one night and the Fiskeman got right after heroh, he was especially anxious about the souls

of the nicelooking girls, believe me!and he hurt her feelings so she never went again. And then he prayed

every night after that, right in public, that the Lord would soften her hard heart. Finally I went to Mr. Leavitt,

our minister then, and told him if he didn't make Fiske stop that I'd just rise up the next night and throw my

hymn book at him when he mentioned that `beautiful but unrepentant young woman.' I'd have done it too,

believe ME. Mr. Leavitt did put a stop to it, but Fiske kept on with his meetings until Charley Douglas put an

end to his career in the Glen. Mrs. Charley had been out in California all winter. She'd been real melancholy

in the fallreligious melancholyit ran in her family. Her father worried so much over believing that he

had committed the unpardonable sin that he died in the asylum. So when Rose Douglas got that way Charley

packed her off to visit her sister in Los Angeles. She got perfectly well and came home just when the Fiske

revival was in full swing. She stepped off the train at the Glen, real smiling and chipper, and the first thing

she saw staring her in the face on the black, gableend of the freight shed, was the question, in big white

letters, two feet high, `Whither goest thouto heaven or hell?' That had been one of Fiske's ideas, and he had

got Henry Hammond to paint it. Rose just gave a shriek and fainted; and when they got her home she was

worse than ever. Charley Douglas went to Mr. Leavitt and told him that every Douglas would leave the

church if Fiske was kept there any longer. Mr. Leavitt had to give in, for the Douglases paid half his salary,

so Fiske departed, and we had to depend on our Bibles once more for instructions on how to get to heaven.

After he was gone Mr. Leavitt found out he was just a masquerading Methodist, and he felt pretty sick,

believe ME. Mr. Leavitt fell short in some ways, but he was a good, sound Presbyterian."

"By the way, I had a letter from Mr. Ford yesterday," said Anne. "He asked me to remember him kindly to

"Well, so I did, in a kind of way. But I'll never forgive him for what he done to Leslie. There's that poor child

eating her heart out about himas if she hadn't had trouble enoughand him ranting round Toronto, I've no

"Lord, Anne, dearie, I've got eyes, haven't I? And I've known Leslie since she was a baby . There's been a

new kind of heartbreak in her eyes all the fall, and I know that writerman was behind it somehow. I'll never

forgive myself for being the means of bringing him here. But I never expected he'd be like he was. I thought

he'd just be like the other men Leslie had boardedconceited young asses, every one of them, that she never

had any use for. One of them did try to flirt with her once and she froze him outso bad, I feel sure he's

"Don't let Leslie suspect you know her secret," said Anne hurriedly. "I think it would hurt her."

"Trust me, Anne, dearie. _I_ wasn't born yesterday. Oh, a plague on all the men! One of them ruined Leslie's

life to begin with, and now another of the tribe comes and makes her still more wretched. Anne, this world is

"If it is, it'll be in a world where there aren't any men," said Miss Cornelia gloomily.

Leslie, after her first anguish was over, found it possible to go on with life after all, as most of us do, no

matter what our particular form of torment has been. It is even possible that she enjoyed moments of it, when

she was one of the gay circle in the little house of dreams. But if Anne ever hoped that she was forgetting

Owen Ford she would have been undeceived by the furtive hunger in Leslie's eyes whenever his name was

mentioned. Pitiful to that hunger, Anne always contrived to tell Captain Jim or Gilbert bits of news from

Owen's letters when Leslie was with them. The girl's flush and pallor at such moments spoke all too

eloquently of the emotion that filled her being. But she never spoke of him to Anne, or mentioned that night

"He's been my friend so long," she said sorrowfully to Anne. "He was Dick's old dog, you knowDick had

him for a year or so before we were married. He left him with me when he sailed on the Four Sisters. Carlo

got very fond of meand his doglove helped me through that first dreadful year after mother died, when I

was alone. When I heard that Dick was coming back I was afraid Carlo wouldn't be so much mine. But he

never seemed to care for Dick, though he had been so fond of him once. He would snap and growl at him as

if he were a stranger. I was glad. It was nice to have one thing whose love was all mine. That old dog has

been such a comfort to me, Anne. He got so feeble in the fall that I was afraid he couldn't live longbut I

hoped I could nurse him through the winter. He seemed pretty well this morning. He was lying on the rug

before the fire; then, all at once, he got up and crept over to me; he put his head on my lap and gave me one

loving look out of his big, soft, dog eyesand then he just shivered and died. I shall miss him so."

"Let me give you another dog, Leslie," said Anne . "I'm getting a lovely Gordon setter for a Christmas present

"Not just now, thank you, Anne. I don't feel like having another dog yet. I don't seem to have any affection

left for another. Perhapsin timeI'll let you give me one. I really need one as a kind of protection. But

there was something almost human about Carlo it wouldn't be DECENT to fill his place too hurriedly, dear

Anne went to Avonlea a week before Christmas and stayed until after the holidays. Gilbert came up for her,

and there was a glad New Year celebration at Green Gables, when Barrys and Blythes and Wrights

assembled to devour a dinner which had cost Mrs. Rachel and Marilla much careful thought and preparation.

When they went back to Four Winds the little house was almost drifted over, for the third storm of a winter

that was to prove phenomenally stormy had whirled up the harbor and heaped huge snow mountains about

everything it encountered. But Captain Jim had shovelled out doors and paths, and Miss Cornelia had come

"It's good to see you back, Anne, dearie! But did you ever see such drifts? You can't see the Moore place at

all unless you go upstairs. Leslie'll be so glad you're back. She's almost buried alive over there. Fortunately

Dick can shovel snow, and thinks it's great fun. Susan sent me word to tell you she would be on hand

"I reckon I'll plough up to the Glen and sit a bit with old Martin Strong. He's not far from his end and he's

lonesome. He hasn't many friendsbeen too busy all his life to make any. He's made heaps of money,

"Well, he thought that since he couldn't serve God and Mammon he'd better stick to Mammon," said Miss

Cornelia crisply. "So he shouldn't complain if he doesn't find Mammon very good company now."

Captain Jim went out, but remembered something in the yard and turned back for a moment.

"I'd a letter from Mr. Ford, Mistress Blythe, and he says the lifebook is accepted and is going to be

published next fall. I felt fair uplifted when I got the news. To think that I'm to see it in print at last."

"That man is clean crazy on the subject of his lifebook," said Miss Cornelia compassionately. "For my part,

Gilbert laid down the ponderous medical tome over which he had been poring until the increasing dusk of the

March evening made him desist. He leaned back in his chair and gazed meditatively out of the window. It

was early springprobably the ugliest time of the year. Not even the sunset could redeem the dead, sodden

landscape and rotten black harbor ice upon which he looked. No sign of life was visible, save a big black

crow winging his solitary way across a leaden field. Gilbert speculated idly concerning that crow. Was he a

family crow, with a black but comely crow wife awaiting him in the woods beyond the Glen? Or was he a

glossy young buck of a crow on courting thoughts intent? Or was he a cynical bachelor crow, believing that

he travels the fastest who travels alone? Whatever he was, he soon disappeared in congenial gloom and

The firelight flickered from point to point, gleaming on the white and green coats of Gog and Magog, on the

sleek, brown head of the beautiful setter basking on the rug, on the picture frames on the walls, on the vaseful

of daffodils from the window garden, on Anne herself, sitting by her little table, with her sewing beside her

and her hands clasped over her knee while she traced out pictures in the fireCastles in Spain whose airy

turrets pierced moonlit cloud and sunset barships sailing from the Haven of Good Hopes straight to Four

Winds Harbor with precious burthen. For Anne was again a dreamer of dreams, albeit a grim shape of fear

Gilbert was accustomed to refer to himself as "an old married man." But he still looked upon Anne with the

incredulous eyes of a lover. He couldn't wholly believe yet that she was really his. It MIGHT be only a dream

after all, part and parcel of this magic house of dreams. His soul still went on tiptoe before her, lest the

"Anne," he said slowly, "lend me your ears. I want to talk with you about something."

"What is it?" she asked gaily. "You look fearfully solemn, Gilbert. I really haven't done anything naughty

"Dick Moore?" echoed Anne, sitting up alertly. "Why, what in the world have you to say about Dick Moore?"

"I've been thinking a great deal about him lately. Do you remember that time last summer I treated him for

" I took the opportunity to examine the scars on his head thoroughly. I've always thought Dick was a very

interesting case from a medical point of view. Lately I've been studying the history of trephining and the

cases where it has been employed. Anne, I have come to the conclusion that if Dick Moore were taken to a

good hospital and the operation of trephining performed on several places in his skull, his memory and

"I do, indeed. And I have decided that it is my duty to broach the subject to Leslie."

"Gilbert Blythe, you shall NOT do any such thing," cried Anne vehemently. "Oh, Gilbert, you won'tyou

"I won't be reasonableI can't be reasonableI AM reasonable. It is you who are unreasonable. Gilbert,

have you ever once thought what it would mean for Leslie if Dick Moore were to be restored to his right

senses? Just stop and think! She's unhappy enough now; but life as Dick's nurse and attendant is a thousand

times easier for her than life as Dick's wife. I knowI KNOW! It's unthinkable. Don't you meddle with the

"I HAVE thought over that aspect of the case thoroughly, Anne. But I believe that a doctor is bound to set the

sanctity of a patient's mind and body above all other considerations, no matter what the consequences may

be. I believe it his duty to endeavor to restore health and sanity, if there is any hope whatever of it."

"But Dick isn't your patient in that respect," cried Anne, taking another tack. "If Leslie had asked you if

anything could be done for him, THEN it might be your duty to tell her what you really thought. But you've

"I don't call it meddling. Uncle Dave told Leslie twelve years ago that nothing could be done for Dick. She

"And why did Uncle Dave tell her that, if it wasn't true?" cried Anne, triumphantly. "Doesn't he know as

"I think notthough it may sound conceited and presumptuous to say it. And you know as well as I that he is

rather prejudiced against what he calls `these newfangled notions of cutting and carving.' He's even opposed

"He's right," exclaimed Anne, with a complete change of front. `I believe myself that you modern doctors are

"Rhoda Allonby would not be a living woman today if I had been afraid of making a certain experiment,"

"I'm sick and tired of hearing about Rhoda Allonby," cried Annemost unjustly, for Gilbert had never

mentioned Mrs. Allonby's name since the day he had told Anne of his success in regard to her. And he could

"I had not expected you to look at the matter as you do, Anne," he said a little stiffly, getting up and moving

"Now, Gilbert, you are not `going off mad.' Sit down here and I'll apologise beeYEWtifully, I shouldn't

Anne checked herself just in time. She had been on the very verge of betraying Leslie's secret.

"I think I do know. I've looked at the matter from every point of viewand I've been driven to the

conclusion that it is my duty to tell Leslie that I believe it is possible that Dick can be restored to himself;

"I don't think you've any right to put such a responsibility on her. She has enough to bear. She is poorhow

"Certainly not. Nobody could be sure of such a thing. There may have been lesions of the brain itself, the

effect of which can never be removed. But if, as I believe, his loss of memory and other faculties is due

merely to the pressure on the brain centers of certain depressed areas of bone, then he can be cured."

"But it's only a possibility!" insisted Anne. "Now, suppose you tell Leslie and she decides to have the

operation. It will cost a great deal. She will have to borrow the money, or sell her little property. And suppose

How will she be able to pay back the money she borrows, or make a living for herself and that big helpless

"Oh, I knowI know. But it is my duty to tell her. I can't get away from that conviction."

"Oh, I know the Blythe stubbornness," groaned Anne. "But don't do this solely on your own responsibility.

"In briefas you sayleave well enough alone. Apart from his prejudice against newfangled surgery, I'm

afraid he looks at the case from your point of viewdon't do it, for Leslie's sake."

"There now," cried Anne triumphantly. "I do think, Gilbert, that you ought to abide by the judgment of a man

nearly eighty, who has seen a great deal and saved scores of lives himselfsurely his opinion ought to weigh

"That's just my point. It IS serious. Here is a man who is a helpless burden. He may be restored to reason and

"He may be given a chance to make good and redeem the past. His wife doesn't know this. I do. It is therefore

my duty to tell her that there is such a possibility. That, boiled down, is my decision."

"Don't say `decision' yet, Gilbert. Consult somebody else. Ask Captain Jim what he thinks about it."

This is something a man must decide for himself. My conscience would never be easy if I kept silent on the

"Oh, your conscience!" moaned Anne. "I suppose that Uncle Dave has a conscience too, hasn't he?"

"Yes. But I am not the keeper of his conscience. Come, Anne, if this affair did not concern Leslieif it were

"I wouldn't," vowed Anne, trying to believe it herself. "Oh, you can argue all night, Gilbert, but you won't

"You're driven to the last ditch, Anne, when you bring up Miss Cornelia as a reinforcement. She will say,

`Just like a man,' and rage furiously. No matter. This is no affair for Miss Cornelia to settle. Leslie alone must

"You know very well how she will decide it," said Anne, almost in tears. "She has ideals of duty, too. I don't

"`Because right is right to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence,'"

"Oh, you think a couplet of poetry a convincing argument!" scoffed Anne. "That is so like a man."

And then she laughed in spite of herself. It sounded so like an echo of Miss Cornelia.

"Well, if you won't accept Tennyson as an authority, perhaps you will believe the words of a Greater than

he," said Gilbert seriously. "`Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.' I believe that, Anne,

with all my heart. It's the greatest and grandest verse in the Bibleor in any literatureand the TRUEST, if

there are comparative degrees of trueness. And it's the first duty of a man to tell the truth, as he sees it and

"In this case the truth won't make poor Leslie free," sighed Anne. "It will probably end in still more bitter

A sudden outbreak of a virulent type of influenza at the Glen and down at the fishing village kept Gilbert so

busy for the next fortnight that he had no time to pay the promised visit to Captain Jim. Anne hoped against

hope that he had abandoned the idea about Dick Moore, and, resolving to let sleeping dogs lie, she said no

"I wonder if it would be right for me to tell him that Leslie cares for Owen," she thought. "He would never let

her suspect that he knew, so her pride would not suffer, and it MIGHT convince him that he should let Dick

Moore alone. Shall Ishall I? No, after all, I cannot. A promise is sacred, and I've no right to betray Leslie's

secret. But oh, I never felt so worried over anything in my life as I do over this. It's spoiling the springit's

One evening Gilbert abruptly proposed that they go down and see Captain Jim. With a sinking heart Anne

agreed, and they set forth. Two weeks of kind sunshine had wrought a miracle in the bleak landscape over

which Gilbert's crow had flown. The hills and fields were dry and brown and warm, ready to break into bud

and blossom; the harbor was laughtershaken again; the long harbor road was like a gleaming red ribbon;

down on the dunes a crowd of boys, who were out smelt fishing, were burning the thick, dry sandhill grass of

the preceding summer. The flames swept over the dunes rosily, flinging their cardinal banners against the

dark gulf beyond, and illuminating the channel and the fishing village. It was a picturesque scene which

would at other times have delighted Anne's eyes; but she was not enjoying this walk. Neither was Gilbert.

Their usual goodcomradeship and Josephian community of taste and viewpoint were sadly lacking. Anne's

disapproval of the whole project showed itself in the haughty uplift of her head and the studied politeness of

her remarks. Gilbert's mouth was set in all the Blythe obstinacy, but his eyes were troubled. He meant to do

what he believed to be his duty; but to be at outs with Anne was a high price to pay. Altogether, both were

Captain Jim put away the fishing net upon which he was working, and welcomed them joyfully. In the

searching light of the spring evening he looked older than Anne had ever seen him. His hair had grown much

grayer, and the strong old hand shook a little. But his blue eyes were clear and steady, and the staunch soul

Captain Jim listened in amazed silence while Gilbert said what he had come to say. Anne, who knew how the

old man worshipped Leslie, felt quite sure that he would side with her, although she had not much hope that

this would influence Gilbert. She was therefore surprised beyond measure when Captain Jim, slowly and

sorrowfully, but unhesitatingly, gave it as his opinion that Leslie should be told.

"Oh, Captain Jim, I didn't think you'd say that," she exclaimed reproachfully. "I thought you wouldn't want to

"I don't want to. I know how you feel about it, Mistress Blythe just as I feel meself. But it ain't our feelings

we have to steer by through lifeno, no, we'd make shipwreck mighty often if we did that. There's only the

one safe compass and we've got to set our course by thatwhat it's right to do. I agree with the doctor. If

there's a chance for Dick, Leslie should be told of it. There's no two sides to that, in my opinion."

"Well," said Anne, giving up in despair, "wait until Miss Cornelia gets after you two men."

"Cornelia'll rake us fore and aft, no doubt," assented Captain Jim. "You women are lovely critters, Mistress

Blythe, but you're just a mite illogical. You're a highly eddicated lady and Cornelia isn't, but you're like as

two peas when it comes to that. I dunno's you're any the worse for it. Logic is a sort of hard, merciless thing, I

reckon. Now, I'll brew a cup of tea and we'll drink it and talk of pleasant things, jest to calm our minds a bit."

At least, Captain Jim's tea and conversation calmed Anne's mind to such an extent that she did not make

Gilbert suffer so acutely on the way home as she had deliberately intended to do. She did not refer to the

burning question at all, but she chatted amiably of other matters, and Gilbert understood that he was forgiven

"Captain Jim seems very frail and bent this spring. The winter has aged him," said Anne sadly. "I am afraid

"Four Winds won't be the same place when Captain Jim `sets out to sea,'" agreed Gilbert.

The following evening he went to the house up the brook. Anne wandered dismally around until his return.

Gilbert flung himself wearily into the easy chair before the fire. He looked tired. It had not been an easy thing

for him to tell Leslie. And the terror that had sprung into her eyes when the meaning of what he told her came

home to her was not a pleasant thing to remember. Now, when the die was cast, he was beset with doubts of

Anne looked at him remorsefully; then she slipped down on the rug beside him and laid her glossy red head

"Gilbert, I've been rather hateful over this. I won't be any more. Please just call me redheaded and forgive

By which Gilbert understood that, no matter what came of it, there would be no Itoldyouso's. But he was

not wholly comforted. Duty in the abstract is one thing; duty in the concrete is quite another, especially when

Some instinct made Anne keep away from Leslie for the next three days. On the third evening Leslie came

down to the little house and told Gilbert that she had made up her mind; she would take Dick to Montreal and

She was very pale and seemed to have wrapped herself in her old mantle of aloofness. But her eyes had lost

the look which had haunted Gilbert; they were cold and bright; and she proceeded to discuss details with him

in a crisp, businesslike way. There were plans to be made and many things to be thought over. When Leslie

had got the information she wanted she went home. Anne wanted to walk part of the way with her.

"Better not," said Leslie curtly. "Today's rain has made the ground damp. Goodnight."

"Have I lost my friend?" said Anne with a sigh. "If the operation is successful and Dick Moore finds himself

again Leslie will retreat into some remote fastness of her soul where none of us can ever find her."

"Leslie would never do that, Gilbert. Her sense of duty is very strong. She told me once that her Grandmother

West always impressed upon her the fact that when she assumed any responsibility she must never shirk it, no

matter what the consequences might be. That is one of her cardinal rules. I suppose it's very oldfashioned ."

"Don't be bitter, Annegirl. You know you don't think it old fashionedyou know you have the very same

idea of sacredness of assumed responsibilities yourself. And you are right. Shirking responsibilities is the

curse of our modern lifethe secret of all the unrest and discontent that is seething in the world."

"Thus saith the preacher," mocked Anne. But under the mockery she felt that he was right; and she was very

A week later Miss Cornelia descended like an avalanche upon the little house. Gilbert was away and Anne

"Anne, do you mean to tell me it's true what I've heardthat Dr. Blythe has told Leslie Dick can be cured,

"Well, it's inhuman cruelty, that's what it is," said Miss Cornelia, violently agitated. "I did think Dr. Blythe

"Dr. Blythe thought it was his duty to tell Leslie that there was a chance for Dick," said Anne with spirit,

"and," she added, loyalty to Gilbert getting the better of her, "I agree with him."

"Oh, no, you don't, dearie," said Miss Cornelia. "No person with any bowels of compassion could."

"Don't quote that old ninny to me," cried Miss Cornelia. "And I don't care who agrees with him.

"We DO think of it. But Gilbert believes that a doctor should put the welfare of a patient's mind and body

"That's just like a man. But I expected better things of you, Anne," said Miss Cornelia, more in sorrow than in

wrath; then she proceeded to bombard Anne with precisely the same arguments with which the latter had

attacked Gilbert; and Anne valiantly defended her husband with the weapons he had used for his own

"It's an iniquitous shame," she declared, almost in tears. "That's just what it isan iniquitous shame. Poor,

"Dick! Dick Moore! HE'S happy enough. He's a better behaved and more reputable member of society now

Why, he was a drunkard and perhaps worse. Are you going to set him loose again to roar and to devour?"

"Reform your grandmother!" retorted Miss Cornelia. "Dick Moore got the injuries that left him as he is in a

drunken brawl. He DESERVES his fate. It was sent on him for a punishment. I don't believe the doctor has

"Nobody knows how Dick was hurt, Miss Cornelia. It may not have been in a drunken brawl at all. He may

"Pigs MAY whistle, but they've poor mouths for it," said Miss Cornelia. "Well, the gist of what you tell me is

that the thing is settled and there's no use in talking. If that's so I'll hold my tongue. I don't propose to wear

MY teeth out gnawing files. When a thing has to be I give in to it. But I like to make mighty sure first that it

HAS to be. Now, I'll devote MY energies to comforting and sustaining Leslie. And after all," added Miss

Leslie, having once made up her mind what to do, proceeded to do it with characteristic resolution and speed.

Housecleaning must be finished with first, whatever issues of life and death might await beyond. The gray

house up the brook was put into flawless order and cleanliness, with Miss Cornelia's ready assistance. Miss

Cornelia, having said her say to Anne, and later on to Gilbert and Captain Jimsparing neither of them, let it

be assurednever spoke of the matter to Leslie. She accepted the fact of Dick's operation, referred to it when

necessary in a businesslike way, and ignored it when it was not. Leslie never attempted to discuss it. She

was very cold and quiet during these beautiful spring days. She seldom visited Anne, and though she was

invariably courteous and friendly, that very courtesy was as an icy barrier between her and the people of the

little house. The old jokes and laughter and chumminess of common things could not reach her over it. Anne

refused to feel hurt. She knew that Leslie was in the grip of a hideous dreada dread that wrapped her away

from all little glimpses of happiness and hours of pleasure. When one great passion seizes possession of the

soul all other feelings are crowded aside. Never in all her life had Leslie Moore shuddered away from the

future with more intolerable terror. But she went forward as unswervingly in the path she had elected as the

martyrs of old walked their chosen way, knowing the end of it to be the fiery agony of the stake.

The financial question was settled with greater ease than Anne had feared. Leslie borrowed the necessary

money from Captain Jim, and, at her insistence, he took a mortgage on the little farm.

"So that is one thing off the poor girl's mind," Miss Cornelia told Anne, "and off mine too. Now, if Dick gets

well enough to work again he'll be able to earn enough to pay the interest on it; and if he doesn't I know

Captain Jim'll manage someway that Leslie won't have to. He said as much to me. `I'm getting old, Cornelia,'

he said, `and I've no chick or child of my own. Leslie won't take a gift from a living man, but mebbe she will

from a dead one.' So it will be all right as far as THAT goes. I wish everything else might be settled as

satisfactorily. As for that wretch of a Dick, he's been awful these last few days. The devil was in him, believe

ME! Leslie and I couldn't get on with our work for the tricks he'd play. He chased all her ducks one day

around the yard till most of them died. And not one thing would he do for us. Sometimes, you know, he'll

make himself quite handy, bringing in pails of water and wood. But this week if we sent him to the well he'd

try to climb down into it. I thought once, `If you'd only shoot down there headfirst everything would be

"Now, you needn't Miss Cornelia me, Anne, dearie. ANYBODY would have thought the same. If the

Montreal doctors can make a rational creature out of Dick Moore they're wonders."

Leslie took Dick to Montreal early in May. Gilbert went with her, to help her, and make the necessary

arrangements for her. He came home with the report that the Montreal surgeon whom they had consulted

But she had promised to write. Ten days after Gilbert's return the letter came. Leslie wrote that the operation

"What does she mean by `successfully?'" asked Anne. "Does she mean that Dick's memory is really

"Not likelysince she says nothing of it," said Gilbert. "She uses the word `successfully' from the surgeon's

point of view. The operation has been performed and followed by normal results. But it is too soon to know

whether Dick's faculties will be eventually restored, wholly or in part. His memory would not be likely to

return to him all at once. The process will be gradual, if it occurs at all. Is that all she says?"

"Yesthere's her letter. It's very short. Poor girl, she must be under a terrible strain. Gilbert Blythe, there are

"Miss Cornelia says them for you," said Gilbert with a rueful smile. "She combs me down every time I

encounter her. She makes it plain to me that she regards me as little better than a murderer, and that she

thinks it a great pity that Dr. Dave ever let me step into his shoes. She even told me that the Methodist doctor

over the harbor was to be preferred before me. With Miss Cornelia the force of condemnation can no further

"If Cornelia Bryant was sick, it would not be Doctor Dave or the Methodist doctor she would send for,"

sniffed Susan. "She would have you out of your hardearned bed in the middle of the night, doctor, dear, if

she took a spell of misery, that she would. And then she would likely say your bill was past all reason. But do

No further word came from Leslie for some time. The May days crept away in a sweet succession and the

shores of Four Winds Harbor greened and bloomed and purpled. One day in late May Gilbert came home to

"I am afraid something has upset Mrs. Doctor, doctor, dear," she said mysteriously. "She got a letter this

afternoon and since then she has just been walking round the garden and talking to herself. You know it is not

good for her to be on her feet so much, doctor, dear. She did not see fit to tell me what her news was, and I

am no pry, doctor, dear, and never was, but it is plain something has upset her. And it is not good for her to

Gilbert hurried rather anxiously to the garden. Had anything happened at Green Gables? But Anne, sitting on

the rustic seat by the brook, did not look troubled, though she was certainly much excited. Her eyes were

"I think you'll hardly believe it when I tell you, Gilbert. _I_ can't believe it yet. As Susan said the other day, `I

feel like a fly coming to live in the sundazedlike.' It's all so incredible. I've read the letter a score of times

and every time it's just the sameI can't believe my own eyes. Oh, Gilbert, you were rightso right. I can

see that clearly enough nowand I'm so ashamed of myselfand will you ever really forgive me?"

"Anne, I'll shake you if you don't grow coherent. Redmond would be ashamed of you. WHAT has

"I'm going to phone for Uncle Dave," said Gilbert, pretending to start for the house.

"Sit down, Gilbert. I'll try to tell you. I've had a letter, and oh, Gilbert, it's all so amazingso incredibly

"I suppose," said Gilbert, sitting down with a resigned air, "the only thing to do in a case of this kind is to

"There is NO Dick! The man we have thought Dick Moore whom everybody in Four Winds has believed

for twelve years to be Dick Mooreis his cousin, George Moore, of Nova Scotia, who, it seems, always

resembled him very strikingly. Dick Moore died of yellow fever thirteen years ago in Cuba."

"And do you mean to tell me, Anne, dearie, that Dick Moore has turned out not to be Dick Moore at all but

"It'sit'sjust like a man," said Miss Cornelia helplessly. She took off her hat with trembling fingers. For

"I can't seem to sense it, Anne," she said. "I've heard you say itand I believe youbut I can't take it in.

"Yes. The truth has made her free. Gilbert was right when he said that verse was the grandest in the Bible."

"Tell me everything, Anne, dearie. Since I got your phone I've been in a regular muddle, believe ME.

"There isn't a very great deal to tell. Leslie's letter was short. She didn't go into particulars. This

manGeorge Moorehas recovered his memory and knows who he is. He says Dick took yellow fever in

Cuba, and the Four Sisters had to sail without him. George stayed behind to nurse him. But he died very

George did not write Leslie because he intended to come right home and tell her himself."

"I suppose his accident must have intervened. Gilbert says it is quite likely that George Moore remembers

nothing of his accident, or what led to it, and may never remember it. It probably happened very soon after

"She says she will stay with George Moore until he can leave the hospital. She has written to his people in

Nova Scotia. It seems that George's only near relative is a married sister much older than himself. She was

living when George sailed on the Four Sisters, but of course we do not know what may have happened since.

"I did. It is all coming back to me. He was here visiting his Uncle Abner eighteen years ago, when he and

Dick would be about seventeen. They were double cousins, you see. Their fathers were brothers and their

mothers were twin sisters, and they did look a terrible lot alike. Of course," added Miss Cornelia scornfully,

"it wasn't one of those freak resemblances you read of in novels where two people are so much alike that they

can fill each other's places and their nearest and dearest can't tell between them. In those days you could tell

easy enough which was George and which was Dick, if you saw them together and near at hand. Apart, or

some distance away, it wasn't so easy. They played lots of tricks on people and thought it great fun, the two

scamps. George Moore was a little taller and a good deal fatter than Dickthough neither of them was what

you would call fatthey were both of the lean kind. Dick had higher color than George, and his hair was a

shade lighter. But their features were just alike, and they both had that queer freak of eyesone blue and one

hazel. They weren't much alike in any other way, though. George was a real nice fellow, though he was a

scalawag for mischief, and some said he had a liking for a glass even then. But everybody liked him better

than Dick. He spent about a month here. Leslie never saw him; she was only about eight or nine then and I

remember now that she spent that whole winter over harbor with her grandmother West. Captain Jim was

away, toothat was the winter he was wrecked on the Magdalens. I don't suppose either he or Leslie had

ever heard about the Nova Scotia cousin looking so much like Dick. Nobody ever thought of him when

Captain Jim brought DickGeorge, I should sayhome. Of course, we all thought Dick had changed

considerablehe'd got so lumpish and fat. But we put that down to what had happened to him, and no doubt

that was the reason, for, as I've said, George wasn't fat to begin with either. And there was no other way we

could have guessed, for the man's senses were clean gone. I can't see that it is any wonder we were all

deceived. But it's a staggering thing. And Leslie has sacrificed the best years of her life to nursing a man who

hadn't any claim on her! Oh, drat the men! No matter what they do, it's the wrong thing. And no matter who

"Gilbert and Captain Jim are men, and it is through them that the truth has been discovered at last," said

"Well, I admit that," conceded Miss Cornelia reluctantly. "I'm sorry I raked the doctor off so. It's the first time

in my life I've ever felt ashamed of anything I said to a man. I don't know as I shall tell him so, though. He'll

just have to take it for granted. Well, Anne, dearie, it's a mercy the Lord doesn't answer all our prayers. I've

been praying hard right along that the operation wouldn't cure Dick. Of course I didn't put it just quite so

plain. But that was what was in the back of my mind, and I have no doubt the Lord knew it."

"Well, He has answered the spirit of your prayer. You really wished that things shouldn't be made any harder

for Leslie. I'm afraid that in my secret heart I've been hoping the operation wouldn't succeed, and I am

"She writes like one dazed. I think that, like ourselves, she hardly realises it yet. She says, `It all seems like a

"Poor child! I suppose when the chains are struck off a prisoner he'd feel queer and lost without them for a

while. Anne, dearie, here's a thought keeps coming into my mind. What about Owen Ford? We both know

"Well, I hadn't any reason to think he was, but it just appeared to me he MUST be. Now, Anne, dearie, the

Lord knows I'm not a matchmaker, and I scorn all such doings. But if I were you and writing to that Ford

"Of course I will mention it when I write him," said Anne, a trifle distantly. Somehow, this was a thing she

could not discuss with Miss Cornelia. And yet, she had to admit that the same thought had been lurking in her

mind ever since she had heard of Leslie's freedom. But she would not desecrate it by free speech.

"Of course there is no great rush, dearie. But Dick Moore's been dead for thirteen years and Leslie has wasted

enough of her life for him. We'll just see what comes of it. As for this George Moore, who's gone and come

back to life when everyone thought he was dead and done for, just like a man, I'm real sorry for him. He

"He is still a young man, and if he recovers completely, as seems likely, he will be able to make a place for

himself again. It must be very strange for him, poor fellow. I suppose all these years since his accident will

A fortnight later Leslie Moore came home alone to the old house where she had spent so many bitter years. In

the June twilight she went over the fields to Anne's, and appeared with ghostlike suddenness in the scented

"Leslie!" cried Anne in amazement. "Where have you sprung from? We never knew you were coming. Why

"I couldn't write somehow, Anne. It seemed so futile to try to say anything with pen and ink. And I wanted to

Anne put her arms about Leslie and kissed her. Leslie returned the kiss warmly. She looked pale and tired,

and she gave a little sigh as she dropped down on the grasses beside a great bed of daffodils that were

"Yes. George Moore's sister came to Montreal and took him home with her. Poor fellow, he was sorry to part

with methough I was a stranger to him when his memory first came back. He clung to me in those first

hard days when he was trying to realise that Dick's death was not the thing of yesterday that it seemed to him.

It was all very hard for him. I helped him all I could. When his sister came it was easier for him, because it

seemed to him only the other day that he had seen her last. Fortunately she had not changed much, and that

"It is all so strange and wonderful, Leslie. I think we none of us realise it yet."

"I cannot. When I went into the house over there an hour ago, I felt that it MUST be a dreamthat Dick

must be there, with his childish smile, as he had been for so long. Anne, I seem stunned yet. I'm not glad or

sorryor ANYTHING. I feel as if something had been torn suddenly out of my life and left a terrible hole. I

feel as if I couldn't be _I_as if I must have changed into somebody else and couldn't get used to it. It gives

me a horrible lonely, dazed, helpless feeling. It's good to see you againit seems as if you were a sort of

anchor for my drifting soul. Oh, Anne, I dread it allthe gossip and wonderment and questioning. When I

think of that, I wish that I need not have come home at all. Dr. Dave was at the station when I came off the

trainhe brought me home. Poor old man, he feels very badly because he told me years ago that nothing

could be done for Dick. `I honestly thought so, Leslie,' he said to me today. `But I should have told you not to

depend on my opinionI should have told you to go to a specialist. If I had, you would have been saved

many bitter years, and poor George Moore many wasted ones. I blame myself very much, Leslie.' I told him

not to do thathe had done what he thought right. He has always been so kind to meI couldn't bear to see

"Practically. Of course, there are a great many details he can't recall yetbut he remembers more and more

every day. He went out for a walk on the evening after Dick was buried. He had Dick's money and watch on

him; he meant to bring them home to me, along with my letter. He admits he went to a place where the sailors

resortedand he remembers drinkingand nothing else. Anne, I shall never forget the moment he

remembered his own name. I saw him looking at me with an intelligent but puzzled expression. I said, `Do

you know me, Dick?' He answered, `I never saw you before. Who are you? And my name is not Dick. I am

George Moore, and Dick died of yellow fever yesterday! Where am I? What has happened to me?' II

"You will soon adjust yourself to this new state of things, Leslie. And you are younglife is before

"Perhaps I shall be able to look at it in that way after a while, Anne. Just now I feel too tired and indifferent to

think about the future. I'mI'mAnne, I'm lonely. I miss Dick. Isn't it all very strange? Do you know, I was

really fond of poor DickGeorge, I suppose I should sayjust as I would have been fond of a helpless

child who depended on me for everything. I would never have admitted itI was really ashamed of

itbecause, you see, I had hated and despised Dick so much before he went away. When I heard that

Captain Jim was bringing him home I expected I would just feel the same to him. But I never didalthough

I continued to loathe him as I remembered him before. From the time he came home I felt only pitya pity

that hurt and wrung me. I supposed then that it was just because his accident had made him so helpless and

changed. But now I believe it was because there was really a different personality there. Carlo knew it,

AnneI know now that Carlo knew it. I always thought it strange that Carlo shouldn't have known Dick.

Dogs are usually so faithful. But HE knew it was not his master who had come back, although none of the

rest of us did. I had never seen George Moore, you know. I remember now that Dick once mentioned casually

that he had a cousin in Nova Scotia who looked as much like him as a twin; but the thing had gone out of my

memory, and in any case I would never have thought it of any importance. You see, it never occurred to me

to question Dick's identity. Any change in him seemed to me just the result of the accident.

"Oh, Anne, that night in April when Gilbert told me he thought Dick might be cured! I can never forget it. It

seemed to me that I had once been a prisoner in a hideous cage of torture, and then the door had been opened

and I could get out. I was still chained to the cage but I was not in it. And that night I felt that a merciless

hand was drawing me back into the cageback to a torture even more terrible than it had once been. I didn't

blame Gilbert. I felt he was right. And he had been very goodhe said that if, in view of the expense and

uncertainty of the operation, I should decide not to risk it, he would not blame me in the least. But I knew

how I ought to decideand I couldn't face it. All night I walked the floor like a mad woman, trying to

compel myself to face it. I couldn't, AnneI thought I couldn'tand when morning broke I set my teeth and

resolved that I WOULDN'T. I would let things remain as they were. It was very wicked, I know. It would

have been just punishment for such wickedness if I had just been left to abide by that decision. I kept to it all

day. That afternoon I had to go up to the Glen to do some shopping. It was one of Dick's quiet, drowsy days,

so I left him alone. I was gone a little longer than I had expected, and he missed me. He felt lonely. And when

I got home, he ran to meet me just like a child, with such a pleased smile on his face. Somehow, Anne, I just

gave way then. That smile on his poor vacant face was more than I could endure. I felt as if I were denying a

child the chance to grow and develop. I knew that I must give him his chance, no matter what the

consequences might be. So I came over and told Gilbert. Oh, Anne, you must have thought me hateful in

those weeks before I went away. I didn't mean to bebut I couldn't think of anything except what I had to

"I knowI understood, Leslie. And now it is all overyour chain is brokenthere is no cage."

"There is no cage," repeated Leslie absently, plucking at the fringing grasses with her slender, brown hands.

"Butit doesn't seem as if there were anything else, Anne. Youyou remember what I told you of my folly

that night on the sandbar? I find one doesn't get over being a fool very quickly. Sometimes I think there are

people who are fools forever. And to be a foolof that kindis almost as bad as being aa dog on a

"You will feel very differently after you get over being tired and bewildered," said Anne, who, knowing a

certain thing that Leslie did not know, did not feel herself called upon to waste overmuch sympathy.

"Anyhow, I have YOU," she said. "Life can't be altogether empty with such a friend. Anne, pat my

headjust as if I were a little girlMOTHER me a bitand let me tell you while my stubborn tongue is

loosed a little just what you and your comradeship have meant to me since that night I met you on the rock

One morning, when a windy golden sunrise was billowing over the gulf in waves of light, a certain weary

stork flew over the bar of Four Winds Harbor on his way from the Land of Evening Stars. Under his wing

was tucked a sleepy, starryeyed, little creature. The stork was tired, and he looked wistfully about him. He

knew he was somewhere near his destination, but he could not yet see it. The big, white lighthouse on the

red sandstone cliff had its good points; but no stork possessed of any gumption would leave a new, velvet

baby there. An old gray house, surrounded by willows, in a blossomy brook valley, looked more promising,

but did not seem quite the thing either. The staring green abode further on was manifestly out of the question.

Then the stork brightened up. He had caught sight of the very placea little white house nestled against a

big, whispering firwood, with a spiral of blue smoke winding up from its kitchen chimneya house which

just looked as if it were meant for babies. The stork gave a sigh of satisfaction, and softly alighted on the

Half an hour later Gilbert ran down the hall and tapped on the spareroom door. A drowsy voice answered

him and in a moment Marilla's pale, scared face peeped out from behind the door.

"Marilla, Anne has sent me to tell you that a certain young gentleman has arrived here. He hasn't brought

"For pity's sake!" said Marilla blankly. "You don't mean to tell me, Gilbert, that it's all over. Why wasn't I

"Anne wouldn't let us disturb you when there was no need. Nobody was called until about two hours ago.

"He certainly will. He weighs ten pounds andwhy, listen to him. Nothing wrong with his lungs, is there?

The nurse says his hair will be red. Anne is furious with her, and I'm tickled to death."

"The best dream of all has come true," said Anne, pale and rapturous. "Oh, Marilla, I hardly dare believe it,

after that horrible day last summer. I have had a heartache ever since thenbut it is gone now."

"Oh, no, no, NO, Marilla. He can'tnothing can ever do that. He has his own place, my dear, wee

manchild. But little Joy has hers, and always will have it. If she had lived she would have been over a year

old. She would have been toddling around on her tiny feet and lisping a few words. I can see her so plainly,

Marilla. Oh, I know now that Captain Jim was right when he said God would manage better than that my

baby would seem a stranger to me when I found her Beyond. I've learned THAT this past year. I've followed

her development day by day and week by weekI always shall. I shall know just how she grows from year

to yearand when I meet her again I'll know hershe won't be a stranger. Oh, Marilla, LOOK at his dear,

"It would be stranger if they weren't," said Marilla crisply. Now that all was safely over, Marilla was herself

"Oh, I knowbut it seems as if they couldn't be quite FINISHED, you knowand they are, even to the tiny

"See how he clings to my finger. I'm sure he knows me already. He cries when the nurse takes him away. Oh,

"I don't see much hair of any color," said Marilla. "I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you, until it becomes

"Marilla, he HAS hairlook at that fine little down all over his head. Anyway, nurse says his eyes will be

"And he has the nicest little ears, Mrs. Doctor, dear," said Susan. "The first thing I did was to look at his ears.

Hair is deceitful and noses and eyes change, and you cannot tell what is going to come of them, but ears is

ears from start to finish, and you always know where you are with them. Just look at their shapeand they

are set right back against his precious head. You will never need to be ashamed of his ears, Mrs. Doctor,

Anne's convalescence was rapid and happy. Folks came and worshipped the baby, as people have bowed

before the kingship of the newborn since long before the Wise Men of the East knelt in homage to the Royal

Babe of the Bethlehem manger. Leslie, slowly finding herself amid the new conditions of her life, hovered

over it, like a beautiful, goldencrowned Madonna. Miss Cornelia nursed it as knackily as could any mother

in Israel. Captain Jim held the small creature in his big brown hands and gazed tenderly at it, with eyes that

"James Matthewafter the two finest gentlemen I've ever knownnot even saving your presence," said

"I never knew Matthew very well; he was so shy we boys couldn't get acquainted with himbut I quite agree

with you that Captain Jim is one of the rarest and finest souls God ever clothed in clay. He is so delighted

over the fact that we have given his name to our small lad. It seems he has no other namesake."

"Well, James Matthew is a name that will wear well and not fade in the washing," said Miss Cornelia. "I'm

glad you didn't load him down with some highfalutin, romantic name that he'd be ashamed of when he gets to

be a grandfather. Mrs. William Drew at the Glen has called her baby Bertie Shakespeare. Quite a

combination, isn't it? And I'm glad you haven't had much trouble picking on a name. Some folks have an

awful time. When the Stanley Flaggs' first boy was born there was so much rivalry as to who the child should

be named for that the poor little soul had to go for two years without a name. Then a brother came along and

there it was`Big Baby' and `Little Baby.' Finally they called Big Baby Peter and Little Baby Isaac, after the

two grandfathers, and had them both christened together. And each tried to see if it couldn't howl the other

down. You know that Highland Scotch family of MacNabs back of the Glen? They've got twelve boys and

the oldest and the youngest are both called NeilBig Neil and Little Neil in the same family. Well, I s'pose

"I have read somewhere," laughed Anne, "that the first child is a poem but the tenth is very prosy prose.

"Well, there's something to be said for large families," said Miss Cornelia, with a sigh. "I was an only child

for eight years and I did long for a brother and sister. Mother told me to pray for oneand pray I did, believe

ME. Well, one day Aunt Nellie came to me and said, `Cornelia, there is a little brother for you upstairs in

your ma's room. You can go up and see him.' I was so excited and delighted I just flew upstairs. And old Mrs.

Flagg lifted up the baby for me to see. Lord, Anne, dearie, I never was so disappointed in my life. You see,

"How long did it take you to get over your disappointment?" asked Anne, amid her laughter.

"Well, I had a spite at Providence for a good spell, and for weeks I wouldn't even look at the baby. Nobody

knew why, for I never told. Then he began to get real cute, and held out his wee hands to me and I began to

get fond of him. But I didn't get really reconciled to him until one day a school chum came to see him and

said she thought he was awful small for his age. I just got boiling mad, and I sailed right into her, and told her

she didn't know a nice baby when she saw one, and ours was the nicest baby in the world. And after that I just

worshipped him. Mother died before he was three years old and I was sister and mother to him both. Poor

little lad, he was never strong, and he died when he wasn't much over twenty. Seems to me I'd have given

Miss Cornelia sighed. Gilbert had gone down and Leslie, who had been crooning over the small James

Matthew in the dormer window, laid him asleep in his basket and went her way. As soon as she was safely

"Anne, dearie, I'd a letter from Owen Ford yesterday. He's in Vancouver just now, but he wants to know if I

can board him for a month later on. YOU know what that means. Well, I hope we're doing right."

"We've nothing to do with itwe couldn't prevent him from coming to Four Winds if he wanted to," said

Anne quickly. She did not like the feeling of matchmaking Miss Cornelia's whispers gave her; and then she

"Don't let Leslie know he is coming until he is here," she said. "If she found out I feel sure she would go

away at once. She intends to go in the fall anyhowshe told me so the other day. She is going to Montreal to

"Oh, well, Anne, dearie," said Miss Cornelia, nodding sagely "that is all as it may be. You and I have done

When anne came downstairs again, the Island, as well as all Canada, was in the throes of a campaign

preceding a general election. Gilbert, who was an ardent Conservative, found himself caught in the vortex,

being much in demand for speechmaking at the various county rallies. Miss Cornelia did not approve of his

"Dr. Dave never did it. Dr. Blythe will find he is making a mistake, believe ME. Politics is something no

"Is the government of the country to be left solely to the rogues then?" asked Anne.

"Yesso long as it's Conservative rogues," said Miss Cornelia, marching off with the honors of war. "Men

and politicians are all tarred with the same brush. The Grits have it laid on thicker than the Conservatives,

that's allCONSIDERABLY thicker. But Grit or Tory, my advice to Dr. Blythe is to steer clear of politics.

First thing you know, he'll be running an election himself, and going off to Ottawa for half the year and

"Ah, well, let's not borrow trouble," said Anne. "The rate of interest is too high. Instead, let's look at Little

Jem. It should be spelled with a G. Isn't he perfectly beautiful? Just see the dimples in his elbows. We'll bring

"Bring him up to be a good man," said Miss Cornelia. "They're scarce and valuable; though, mind you, I

wouldn't like to see him a Grit. As for the election, you and I may be thankful we don't live over harbor. The

air there is blue these days. Every Elliott and Crawford and MacAllister is on the warpath, loaded for bear.

This side is peaceful and calm, seeing there's so few men. Captain Jim's a Grit, but it's my opinion he's

ashamed of it, for he never talks politics. There isn't any earthly doubt that the Conservatives will be returned

Miss Cornelia was mistaken. On the morning after the election Captain Jim dropped in at the little house to

tell the news. So virulent is the microbe of party politics, even in a peaceable old man, that Captain Jim's

"Mistress Blythe, the Liberals are in with a sweeping majority. After eighteen years of Tory mismanagement

"I never heard you make such a bitter partisan speech before, Captain Jim. I didn't think you had so much

political venom in you," laughed Anne, who was not much excited over the tidings. Little Jem had said

"Wowga" that morning. What were principalities and powers, the rise and fall of dynasties, the overthrow of

"It's been accumulating for a long while," said Captain Jim, with a deprecating smile. "I thought I was only a

moderate Grit, but when the news came that we were in I found out how Gritty I really was."

"Ah, well, it's the only bad thing I know of either of you, Mistress Blythe. Cornelia is a Tory, too. I called in

"Comparatively calm, Mistress Blythe, comparatively calm. She says, says she, `Well, Providence sends

seasons of humiliation to a country, same as to individuals. You Grits have been cold and hungry for many a

year. Make haste to get warmed and fed, for you won't be in long.' `Well, now Cornelia,' I says, `mebbe

Providence thinks Canada needs a real long spell of humiliation.' Ah, Susan, have YOU heard the news? The

Susan had just come in from the kitchen, attended by the odor of delectable dishes which always seemed to

"Now, are they?" she said, with beautiful unconcern. "Well, I never could see but that my bread rose just as

light when Grits were in as when they were not. And if any party, Mrs. Doctor, dear, will make it rain before

the week is out, and save our kitchen garden from entire ruination, that is the party Susan will vote for. In the

meantime, will you just step out and give me your opinion on the meat for dinner? I am fearing that it is very

tough, and I think that we had better change our butcher as well as our government."

One evening, a week later, Anne walked down to the Point, to see if she could get some fresh fish from

Captain Jim, leaving Little Jem for the first time. It was quite a tragedy. Suppose he cried? Suppose Susan did

"Yes, with himbut not with other babies. Why, I looked after three pairs of twins, when I was a child,

Susan. When they cried, I gave them peppermint or castor oil quite coolly. It's quite curious now to recall

"Oh, well, if Little Jem cries, I will just clap a hot water bag on his little stomach," said Susan.

"Do not you fret, Mrs. Doctor, dear. Susan is not the woman to burn a wee man. Bless him, he has no notion

Anne tore herself away finally and enjoyed her walk to the Point after all, through the long shadows of the

sunsetting. Captain Jim was not in the living room of the lighthouse, but another man wasa handsome,

middleaged man, with a strong, cleanshaven chin, who was unknown to Anne. Nevertheless, when she sat

down, he began to talk to her with all the assurance of an old acquaintance. There was nothing amiss in what

he said or the way he said it, but Anne rather resented such a cool takingforgranted in a complete stranger.

Her replies were frosty, and as few as decency required. Nothing daunted, her companion talked on for

several minutes, then excused himself and went away. Anne could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye

and it annoyed her. Who was the creature? There was something vaguely familiar about him but she was

"Captain Jim, who was that who just went out?" she asked, as Captain Jim came in.

"Marshall Elliott!" cried Anne. "Oh, Captain Jimit wasn't yes, it WAS his voiceoh, Captain Jim, I

didn't know himand I was quite insulting to him! WHY didn't he tell me? He must have seen I didn't know

"He wouldn't say a word about ithe'd just enjoy the joke. Don't worry over snubbing himhe'll think it

fun. Yes, Marshall's shaved off his beard at last and cut his hair. His party is in, you know. I didn't know him

myself first time I saw him. He was up in Carter Flagg's store at the Glen the night after election day, along

with a crowd of others, waiting for the news. About twelve the 'phone came throughthe Liberals were in.

Marshall just got up and walked outhe didn't cheer or shouthe left the others to do that, and they nearly

lifted the roof off Carter's store, I reckon. Of course, all the Tories were over in Raymond Russell's store. Not

much cheering THERE. Marshall went straight down the street to the side door of Augustus Palmer's barber

shop. Augustus was in bed asleep, but Marhall hammered on the door until he got up and come down,

"Come into your shop and do the best job you ever did in your life, Gus,' said Marshall. `The Liberals are in

"Gus was mad as hopspartly because he'd been dragged out of bed, but more because he's a Tory. He

"`You'll do what I want you to do, sonny,' said Marshall, `or I'll jest turn you over my knee and give you one

"He'd have done it, too, and Gus knew it, for Marshall is as strong as an ox and Gus is only a midget of a

man. So he gave in and towed Marshall in to the shop and went to work. `Now,' says he, `I'll barber you up,

but if you say one word to me about the Grits getting in while I'm doing it I'll cut your throat with this razor,'

says he. You wouldn't have thought mild little Gus could be so bloodthirsty, would you? Shows what party

politics will do for a man. Marshall kept quiet and got his hair and beard disposed of and went home. When

his old housekeeper heard him come upstairs she peeked out of her bedroom door to see whether 'twas him or

the hired boy. And when she saw a strange man striding down the hall with a candle in his hand she screamed

blue murder and fainted dead away. They had to send for the doctor before they could bring her to, and it was

Captain Jim had no fish. He seldom went out in his boat that summer, and his long tramping expeditions were

over. He spent a great deal of his time sitting by his seaward window, looking out over the gulf, with his

swiftlywhitening head leaning on his hand. He sat there tonight for many silent minutes, keeping some tryst

with the past which Anne would not disturb. Presently he pointed to the iris of the West:

"That's beautiful, isn't, it, Mistress Blythe? But I wish you could have seen the sunrise this morning. It was a

wonderful thingwonderful. I've seen all kinds of sunrises come over that gulf. I've been all over the world,

Mistress Blythe, and take it all in all, I've never seen a finer sight than a summer sunrise over the gulf. A man

can't pick his time for dying, Mistress Blythejest got to go when the Great Captain gives His sailing orders.

But if I could I'd go out when the morning comes across that water. I've watched it many a time and thought

what a thing it would be to pass out through that great white glory to whatever was waiting beyant, on a sea

that ain't mapped out on any airthly chart. I think, Mistress Blythe, that I'd find lost Margaret there."

Captain Jim had often talked to Anne of lost Margaret since he had told her the old story. His love for her

"Anyway, I hope when my time comes I'll go quick and easy. I don't think I'm a coward, Mistress

BlytheI've looked an ugly death in the face more than once without blenching. But the thought of a

"Don't talk about leaving us, dear, DEAR Captain, Jim," pleaded Anne, in a choked voice, patting the old

brown hand, once so strong, but now grown very feeble. "What would we do without you?"

"Oh, you'd get along nicelynicelybut you wouldn't forget the old man altogether, Mistress Blytheno, I

don't think you'll ever quite forget him. The race of Joseph always remembers one another. But it'll be a

memory that won't hurtI like to think that my memory won't hurt my friendsit'll always be kind of

pleasant to them, I hope and believe. It won't be very long now before lost Margaret calls me, for the last

time. I'll be all ready to answer. I jest spoke of this because there's a little favor I want to ask you. Here's this

poor old Matey of mine"Captain Jim reached out a hand and poked the big, warm, velvety, golden ball on

the sofa. The First Mate uncoiled himself like a spring with a nice, throaty, comfortable sound, half purr, half

meow, stretched his paws in air, turned over and coiled himself up again. "HE'll miss me when I start on the

V'yage. I can't bear to think of leaving the poor critter to starve, like he was left before. If anything happens to

"Then that is all I had on my mind. Your Little Jem is to have the few curious things I picked upI've seen

to that. And now I don't like to see tears in those pretty eyes, Mistress Blythe. I'll mebbe hang on for quite a

spell yet. I heard you reading a piece of poetry one day last winterone of Tennyson's pieces. I'd sorter like

Softly and clearly, while the seawind blew in on them, Anne repeated the beautiful lines of Tennyson's

wonderful swan song "Crossing the Bar." The old captain kept time gently with his sinewy hand.

"Yes, yes, Mistress Blythe," he said, when she had finished, "that's it, that's it. He wasn't a sailor, you tell

meI dunno how he could have put an old sailor's feelings into words like that, if he wasn't one. He didn't

want any `sadness o' farewells' and neither do I, Mistress Blythefor all will be well with me and mine

"Nothing very especial," replied Anne, folding up Marilla's letter. "Jake Donnell has been there shingling the

roof. He is a fullfledged carpenter now, so it seems he has had his own way in regard to the choice of a

lifework. You remember his mother wanted him to be a college professor. I shall never forget the day she

"Evidently not. It seems that he has completely lived it down. Even his mother has succumbed. I always

thought that a boy with Jake's chin and mouth would get his own way in the end. Diana writes me that Dora

"Dora is seventeen," said Gilbert. "Charlie Sloane and I were both mad about you when you were seventeen,

"Really, Gilbert, we must be getting on in years," said Anne, with a halfrueful smile, "when children who

were six when we thought ourselves grown up are old enough now to have beaux. Dora's is Ralph

AndrewsJane's brother. I remember him as a little, round, fat, whiteheaded fellow who was always at the

"Dora will probably marry young. She's of the same type as Charlotta the Fourthshe'll never miss her first

"Well; if she marries Ralph I hope he will be a little more upandcoming than his brother Billy," mused

"For instance," said Gilbert, laughing, "let us hope he will be able to propose on his own account. Anne,

would you have married Billy if he had asked you himself, instead of getting Jane to do it for him?"

"I might have." Anne went off into a shriek of laughter over the recollection of her first proposal. "The shock

of the whole thing might have hypnotized me into some such rash and foolish act. Let us be thankful he did it

"I had a letter from George Moore yesterday," said Leslie, from the corner where she was reading.

"Oh, how is he?" asked Anne interestedly, yet with an unreal feeling that she was inquiring about some one

"He is well, but he finds it very hard to adapt himself to all the changes in his old home and friends. He is

going to sea again in the spring. It's in his blood, he says, and he longs for it. But he told me something that

made me glad for him, poor fellow. Before he sailed on the Four Sisters he was engaged to a girl at home. He

did not tell me anything about her in Montreal, because he said he supposed she would have forgotten him

and married someone else long ago, and with him, you see, his engagement and love was still a thing of the

present. It was pretty hard on him, but when he got home he found she had never married and still cared for

him. They are to be married this fall. I'm going to ask him to bring her over here for a little trip; he says he

wants to come and see the place where he lived so many years without knowing it."

"What a nice little romance," said Anne, whose love for the romantic was immortal. "And to think," she

added with a sigh of selfreproach, "that if I had had my way George Moore would never have come up from

the grave in which his identity was buried. How I did fight against Gilbert's suggestion! Well, I am punished:

I shall never be able to have a different opinion from Gilbert's again! If I try to have, he will squelch me by

"As if even that would squelch a woman!" mocked Gilbert. "At least do not become my echo, Anne. A little

opposition gives spice to life . I do not want a wife like John MacAllister's over the harbor. No matter what

he says, she at once remarks in that drab, lifeless little voice of hers, `That is very true, John, dear me!'"

Anne and Leslie laughed. Anne's laughter was silver and Leslie's golden, and the combination of the two was

Susan, coming in on the heels of the laughter, echoed it with a resounding sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with little Jem, is there, Susan?" cried Anne, starting up in alarm.

"No, no, calm yourself, Mrs. Doctor, dear. Something has happened, though. Dear me, everything has gone

catawampus with me this week. I spoiled the bread, as you know too welland I scorched the doctor's best

shirt bosomand I broke your big platter. And now, on the top of all this, comes word that my sister Matilda

"Oh, I'm very sorrysorry that your sister has met with such an accident, I mean," exclaimed Anne.

"Ah, well, man was made to mourn, Mrs. Doctor, dear. That sounds as if it ought to be in the Bible, but they

tell me a person named Burns wrote it. And there is no doubt that we are born to trouble as the sparks fly

upward. As for Matilda, I do not know what to think of her. None of our family ever broke their legs before.

But whatever she has done she is still my sister, and I feel that it is my duty to go and wait on her, if you can

"If you cannot I will not go, Mrs. Doctor, dear, Matilda's leg to the contrary notwithstanding. I will not have

you worried, and that blessed child upset in consequence, for any number of legs."

"Oh, you must go to your sister at once, Susan. I can get a girl from the cove, who will do for a time."

"Anne, will you let me come and stay with you while Susan is away?" exclaimed Leslie. "Do! I'd love

toand it would be an act of charity on your part. I'm so horribly lonely over there in that big barn of a

house. There's so little to doand at night I'm worse than lonelyI'm frightened and nervous in spite of

Anne joyfully agreed, and next day Leslie was installed as an inmate of the little house of dreams. Miss

"It seems Providential," she told Anne in confidence. "I'm sorry for Matilda Clow, but since she had to break

her leg it couldn't have happened at a better time. Leslie will be here while Owen Ford is in Four Winds, and

those old cats up at the Glen won't get the chance to meow, as they would if she was living over there alone

and Owen going to see her. They are doing enough of it as it is, because she doesn't put on mourning. I said

to one of them, `If you mean she should put on mourning for George Moore, it seems to me more like his

resurrection than his funeral; and if it's Dick you mean, I confess _I_ can't see the propriety of going into

weeds for a man who died thirteen years ago and good riddance then!' And when old Louisa Baldwin

remarked to me that she thought it very strange that Leslie should never have suspected it wasn't her own

husband _I_ said, `YOU never suspected it wasn't Dick Moore, and you were nextdoor neighbor to him all

his life, and by nature you're ten times as suspicious as Leslie.' But you can't stop some people's tongues,

Anne, dearie, and I'm real thankful Leslie will be under your roof while Owen is courting her."

Owen Ford came to the little house one August evening when Leslie and Anne were absorbed in worshipping

the baby. He paused at the open door of the living room, unseen by the two within, gazing with greedy eyes

at the beautiful picture. Leslie sat on the floor with the baby in her lap, making ecstatic dabs at his fat little

"Oh, you dear, beautiful, beloved baby," she mumbled, catching one wee hand and covering it with kisses.

"Isn't him ze darlingest itty sing," crooned Anne, hanging over the arm of her chair adoringly. "Dem itty wee

pads are ze very tweetest handies in ze whole big world, isn't dey, you darling itty man."

Anne, in the months before Little Jem's coming, had pored diligently over several wise volumes, and pinned

her faith to one in especial, "Sir Oracle on the Care and Training of Children." Sir Oracle implored parents by

all they held sacred never to talk "baby talk" to their children. Infants should invariably be addressed in

classical language from the moment of their birth. So should they learn to speak English undefiled from their

earliest utterance. "How," demanded Sir Oracle, "can a mother reasonably expect her child to learn correct

speech, when she continually accustoms its impressionable gray matter to such absurd expressions and

distortions of our noble tongue as thoughtless mothers inflict every day on the helpless creatures committed

to their care? Can a child who is constantly called `tweet itty wee singie' ever attain to any proper conception

Anne was vastly impressed with this, and informed Gilbert that she meant to make it an inflexible rule never,

under any circumstances, to talk "baby talk" to her children. Gilbert agreed with her, and they made a solemn

compact on the subjecta compact which Anne shamelessly violated the very first moment Little Jem was

laid in her arms. "Oh, the darling itty wee sing!" she had exclaimed. And she had continued to violate it ever

"He never had any children of his own, GilbertI am positive he hadn't or he would never have written such

rubbish. You just can't help talking baby talk to a baby. It comes naturaland it's RIGHT. It would be

inhuman to talk to those tiny, soft, velvety little creatures as we do to great big boys and girls. Babies want

love and cuddling and all the sweet baby talk they can get, and Little Jem is going to have it, bless his dear

"But you're the worst I ever heard, Anne," protested Gilbert, who, not being a mother but only a father, was

not wholly convinced yet that Sir Oracle was wrong. "I never heard anything like the way you talk to that

"Very likely you never did. Go awaygo away. Didn't I bring up three pairs of Hammond twins before I was

eleven? You and Sir Oracle are nothing but coldblooded theorists. Gilbert, JUST look at him! He's smiling

at mehe knows what we're talking about. And oo dest agwees wif evy word muzzer says, don't oo,

Gilbert put his arm about them. "Oh you mothers!" he said. "You mothers! God knew what He was about

So Little Jem was talked to and loved and cuddled; and he throve as became a child of the house of dreams.

Leslie was quite as foolish over him as Anne was. When their work was done and Gilbert was out of the way,

they gave themselves over to shameless orgies of lovemaking and ecstasies of adoration, such as that in

Leslie was the first to become aware of him. Even in the twilight Anne could see the sudden whiteness that

"Leslie!" he said, holding out his hand. It was the first time he had ever called her by her name; but the hand

Leslie gave him was cold; and she was very quiet all the evening, while Anne and Gilbert and Owen laughed

and talked together. Before his call ended she excused herself and went upstairs . Owen's gay spirits flagged

"Anne, what are you up to? There's something going on that I don't understand. The whole air here tonight

has been charged with electricity. Leslie sits like the muse of tragedy; Owen Ford jokes and laughs on the

surface, and watches Leslie with the eyes of his soul. You seem all the time to be bursting with some

suppressed excitement. Own up. What secret have you been keeping from your deceived husband?"

"Don't be a goose, Gilbert," was Anne's conjugal reply. "As for Leslie, she is absurd and I'm going up to tell

Anne found Leslie at the dormer window of her room. The little place was filled with the rhythmic thunder of

the sea. Leslie sat with locked hands in the misty moonshinea beautiful, accusing presence.

"Anne," she said in a low, reproachful voice, "did you know Owen Ford was coming to Four Winds?"

"Oh, you should have told me, Anne," Leslie cried passionately. "If I had known I would have gone awayI

wouldn't have stayed here to meet him. You should have told me. It wasn't fair of you, Anneoh, it wasn't

Leslie's lips were trembling and her whole form was tense with emotion. But Anne laughed heartlessly. She

"Leslie, you are an adorable goose. Owen Ford didn't rush from the Pacific to the Atlantic from a burning

desire to see ME. Neither do I believe that he was inspired by any wild and frenzied passion for Miss

Cornelia. Take off your tragic airs, my dear friend, and fold them up and put them away in lavender. You'll

never need them again. There are some people who can see through a grindstone when there is a hole in it,

even if you cannot. I am not a prophetess, but I shall venture on a prediction. The bitterness of life is over for

you. After this you are going to have the joys and hopesand I daresay the sorrows, tooof a happy

woman. The omen of the shadow of Venus did come true for you, Leslie. The year in which you saw it

brought your life's best gift for youyour love for Owen Ford. Now, go right to bed and have a good sleep."

Leslie obeyed orders in so far that she went to bed: but it may be questioned if she slept much. I do not think

she dared to dream wakingly; life had been so hard for this poor Leslie, the path on which she had had to

walk had been so strait, that she could not whisper to her own heart the hopes that might wait on the future.

But she watched the great revolving light bestarring the short hours of the summer night, and her eyes grew

soft and bright and young once more. Nor, when Owen Ford came next day, to ask her to go with him to the

Miss Cornelia sailed down to the little house one drowsy afternoon, when the gulf was the faint, bleached

blue of the August seas, and the orange lilies at the gate of Anne's garden held up their imperial cups to be

filled with the molten gold of August sunshine. Not that Miss Cornelia concerned herself with painted oceans

or sunthirsty lilies. She sat in her favorite rocker in unusual idleness. She sewed not, neither did she spin.

Nor did she say a single derogatory word concerning any portion of mankind. In short, Miss Cornelia's

conversation was singularly devoid of spice that day, and Gilbert, who had stayed home to listen to her,

instead of going afishing, as he had intended, felt himself aggrieved. What had come over Miss Cornelia?

She did not look cast down or worried. On the contrary, there was a certain air of nervous exultation about

"Owen and she went raspberrying in the woods back of her farm," answered Anne. "They won't be back

"They don't seem to have any idea that there is such a thing as a clock," said Gilbert. "I can't get to the bottom

of that affair. I'm certain you women pulled strings. But Anne, undutiful wife, won't tell me. Will you, Miss

"No, I shall not. But," said Miss Cornelia, with the air of one determined to take the plunge and have it over,

"I will tell you something else. I came today on purpose to tell it. I am going to be married."

Anne and Gilbert were silent. If Miss Cornelia had announced her intention of going out to the channel and

drowning herself the thing might have been believable. This was not. So they waited. Of course Miss

"Well, you both look sort of kerflummexed," said Miss Cornelia, with a twinkle in her eyes. Now that the

awkward moment of revelation was over, Miss Cornelia was her own woman again. "Do you think I'm too

"You knowit IS rather staggering," said Gilbert, trying to gather his wits together. "I've heard you say a

"I'm not going to marry the best man in the world," retorted Miss Cornelia. "Marshall Elliott is a long way

"Are you going to marry Marshall Elliott?" exclaimed Anne, recovering her power of speech under this

"Yes. I could have had him any time these twenty years if I'd lifted my finger. But do you suppose I was

"I am sure we are very gladand we wish you all possible happiness," said Anne, very flatly and

inadequately, as she felt. She was not prepared for such an occasion. She had never imagined herself offering

"Thanks, I knew you would," said Miss Cornelia. "You are the first of my friends to know it."

"We shall be so sorry to lose you, though, dear Miss Cornelia," said Anne, beginning to be a little sad and

"Oh, you won't lose me," said Miss Cornelia unsentimentally. "You don't suppose I would live over harbor

with all those MacAllisters and Elliotts and Crawfords, do you? `From the conceit of the Elliotts, the pride of

the MacAllisters and the vainglory of the Crawfords, good Lord deliver us.' Marshall is coming to live at my

place. I'm sick and tired of hired men. That Jim Hastings I've got this summer is positively the worst of the

species. He would drive anyone to getting married. What do you think? He upset the churn yesterday and

spilled a big churning of cream over the yard. And not one whit concerned about it was he! Just gave a

foolish laugh and said cream was good for the land. Wasn't that like a man? I told him I wasn't in the habit of

"Well, I wish you all manner of happiness too, Miss Cornelia," said Gilbert, solemnly; "but," he added,

unable to resist the temptation to tease Miss Cornelia, despite Anne's imploring eyes, "I fear your day of

"I like a man who can stick to a thing," retorted Miss Cornelia. "Amos Grant, who used to be after me long

ago, couldn't. You never saw such a weathervane. He jumped into the pond to drown himself once and then

changed his mind and swum out again. Wasn't that like a man? Marshall would have stuck to it and

"He wouldn't be an Elliott if he hadn't. I'm thankful he has. It will be real fun to make him mad. And you can

generally do something with a tempery man when it comes to repenting time. But you can't do anything with

"Yes, he IS," admitted Miss Cornelia rather sadly. "And of course there is no hope of making a Conservative

of him. But at least he is a Presbyterian. So I suppose I shall have to be satisfied with that."

"Not I. Marshall will live me out. The Elliotts are longlived, and the Bryants are not."

"In about a month's time. My wedding dress is to be navy blue silk. And I want to ask you, Anne, dearie, if

you think it would be all right to wear a veil with a navy blue dress. I've always thought I'd like to wear a veil

if I ever got married. Marshall says to have it if I want to. Isn't that like a man?"

"Well, one doesn't want to be different from other people," said Miss Cornelia, who was not noticeably like

anyone else on the face of the earth. "As I say, I do fancy a veil. But maybe it shouldn't be worn with any

dress but a white one. Please tell me, Anne, dearie, what you really think. I'll go by your advice."

"I don't think veils are usually worn with any but white dresses," admitted Anne, "but that is merely a

convention; and I am like Mr. Elliott, Miss Cornelia. I don't see any good reason why you shouldn't have a

"If it isn't the proper thing I won't wear it," she said, with a sigh of regret for a lost dream.

"Since you are determined to be married, Miss Cornelia," said Gilbert solemnly, "I shall give you the

excellent rules for the management of a husband which my grandmother gave my mother when she married

"Well, I reckon I can manage Marshall Elliott," said Miss Cornelia placidly. "But let us hear your rules."

The garden of the little house was a haunt beloved of bees and reddened by late roses that August. The little

house folk lived much in it, and were given to taking picnic suppers in the grassy corner beyond the brook

and sitting about in it through the twilights when great night moths sailed athwart the velvet gloom. One

evening Owen Ford found Leslie alone in it. Anne and Gilbert were away, and Susan, who was expected back

The northern sky was amber and pale green over the fir tops. The air was cool, for August was nearing

September, and Leslie wore a crimson scarf over her white dress. Together they wandered through the little,

friendly, flowercrowded paths in silence. Owen must go soon. His holiday was nearly over. Leslie found her

heart beating wildly. She knew that this beloved garden was to be the scene of the binding words that must

" Some evenings a strange odor blows down the air of this garden, like a phantom perfume," said Owen. "I

have never been able to discover from just what flower it comes. It is elusive and haunting and wonderfully

sweet. I like to fancy it is the soul of Grandmother Selwyn passing on a little visit to the old spot she loved so

"I have lived under its roof only a month," said Leslie, "but I love it as I never loved the house over there

"This house was builded and consecrated by love," said Owen. "Such houses, MUST exert an influence over

those who live in them. And this gardenit is over sixty years old and the history of a thousand hopes and

joys is written in its blossoms. Some of those flowers were actually set out by the schoolmaster's bride, and

she has been dead for thirty years. Yet they bloom on every summer. Look at those red roses, Lesliehow

"I love the red roses," said Leslie. "Anne likes the pink ones best, and Gilbert likes the white. But I want the

"These roses are very latethey bloom after all the others have goneand they hold all the warmth and soul

of the summer come to fruition," said Owen, plucking some of the glowing, halfopened buds.

"The rose is the flower of lovethe world has acclaimed it so for centuries. The pink roses are love hopeful

and expectantthe white roses are love dead or forsakenbut the red rosesah, Leslie, what are the red

"Yeslove triumphant and perfect. Leslie, you knowyou understand. I have loved you from the first. And

I KNOW you love meI don't need to ask you. But I want to hear you say itmy darling my darling!"

Leslie said something in a very low and tremulous voice. Their hands and lips met; it was life's supreme

moment for them and as they stood there in the old garden, with its many years of love and delight and

sorrow and glory, he crowned her shining hair with the red, red rose of a love triumphant.

Anne and Gilbert returned presently, accompanied by Captain Jim. Anne lighted a few sticks of driftwood in

the fireplace, for love of the pixy flames, and they sat around it for an hour of good fellowship.

"When I sit looking at a driftwood fire it's easy to believe I'm young again," said Captain Jim.

Captain Jim looked at them all affectionately and then back again at Leslie's vivid face and glowing eyes.

"I don't need the fire to read your futures," he said. "I see happiness for all of youall of youfor Leslie

and Mr. Fordand the doctor here and Mistress Blytheand Little Jemand children that ain't born yet

but will be. Happiness for you allthough, mind you, I reckon you'll have your troubles and worries and

sorrows, too. They're bound to comeand no house, whether it's a palace or a little house of dreams, can bar

'em out. But they won't get the better of you if you face 'em TOGETHER with love and trust. You can

The old man rose suddenly and placed one hand on Leslie's head and one on Anne's.

"Two good, sweet women," he said. "True and faithful and to be depended on. Your husbands will have

honor in the gates because of youyour children will rise up and call you blessed in the years to come."

There was a strange solemnity about the little scene. Anne and Leslie bowed as those receiving a benediction.

Gilbert suddenly brushed his hand over his eyes; Owen Ford was rapt as one who can see visions. All were

silent for a space. The little house of dreams added another poignant and unforgettable moment to its store of

"I must be going now," said Captain Jim slowly at last. He took up his hat and looked lingeringly about the

Anne, pierced by the unusual wistfulness of his farewell, ran to the door after him.

"Come back soon, Captain Jim," she called, as he passed through the little gate hung between the firs.

"Ay, ay," he called cheerily back to her. But Captain Jim had sat by the old fireside of the house of dreams

"It's soso pitiful to think of him going all alone down to that lonely Point," she said. "And there is no one

"Captain Jim is such good company for others that one can't imagine him being anything but good company

for himself," said Owen. "But he must often be lonely. There was a touch of the seer about him tonighthe

Anne and Gilbert discreetly melted away; but when Owen had gone Anne returned, to find Leslie standing by

"Anne, my happiness frightens me," whispered Leslie. "It seems too great to be realI'm afraid to speak of

itto think of it. It seems to me that it must just be another dream of this house of dreams and it will vanish

"Well, you are not going to leave hereuntil Owen takes you. You are going to stay with me until that times

"Thank you, dear. I meant to ask you if I might stay with you. I didn't want to go back thereit would seem

like going back into the chill and dreariness of the old life again. Anne, Anne, what a friend you've been to

me`a good, sweet womantrue and faithful and to be depended on'Captain Jim summed you up."

"He said `women,' not `woman,'" smiled Anne. "Perhaps Captain Jim sees us both through the rosecolored

spectacles of his love for us. But we can try to live up to his belief in us, at least."

"Do you remember, Anne," said Leslie slowly, "that I once saidthat night we met on the shorethat I

hated my good looks? I didthen. It always seemed to me that if I had been homely Dick would never have

thought of me. I hated my beauty because it had attracted him, but nowoh, I'm glad that I have it. It's all I

have to offer Owen,his artist soul delights in it. I feel as if I do not come to him quite emptyhanded."

"Owen loves your beauty, Leslie. Who would not? But it's foolish of you to say or think that that is all you

bring him. HE will tell you thatI needn't. And now I must lock up. I expected Susan back tonight, but she

"Oh, yes, here I am, Mrs. Doctor, dear," said Susan, entering unexpectedly from the kitchen, "and puffing like

"She is able to sit up, but of course she cannot walk yet. However, she is very well able to get on without me

now, for her daughter has come home for her vacation. And I am thankful to be back, Mrs. Doctor, dear.

Matilda's leg was broken and no mistake, but her tongue was not. She would talk the legs off an iron pot, that

she would, Mrs. Doctor, dear, though I grieve to say it of my own sister. She was always a great talker and

yet she was the first of our family to get married. She really did not care much about marrying James Clow,

but she could not bear to disoblige him. Not but what James is a good manthe only fault I have to find with

him is that he always starts in to say grace with such an unearthly groan, Mrs. Doctor, dear. It always

frightens my appetite clear away. And speaking of getting married, Mrs. Doctor, dear, is it true that Cornelia

"Well, Mrs. Doctor, dear, it does NOT seem to me fair. Here is me, who never said a word against the men,

and I cannot get married nohow. And there is Cornelia Bryant, who is never done abusing them, and all she

has to do is to reach out her hand and pick one up, as it were. It is a very strange world, Mrs. Doctor, dear."

"Yes," said Susan with a heavy sigh, "but, Mrs. Doctor, dear, there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage

One day in late September Owen Ford's book came at last. Captain Jim had gone faithfully to the Glen post

office every day for a month, expecting it. This day he had not gone, and Leslie brought his copy home with

The long walk to the Point on that clear, beguiling evening along the red harbor road was very pleasant. Then

the sun dropped down behind the western hills into some valley that must have been full of lost sunsets, and

Neither Anne nor Leslie ever forgot Captain Jim's face when they gave him the bookHIS book,

transfigured and glorified. The cheeks that had been blanched of late suddenly flamed with the color of

boyhood; his eyes glowed with all the fire of youth; but his hands trembled as he opened it.

It was called simply The LifeBook of Captain Jim, and on the title page the names of Owen Ford and James

Boyd were printed as collaborators. The frontispiece was a photograph of Captain Jim himself, standing at

the door of the lighthouse, looking across the gulf. Owen Ford had "snapped" him one day while the book

was being written. Captain Jim had known this, but he had not known that the picture was to be in the book.

"Just think of it," he said, "the old sailor right there in a real printed book. This is the proudest day of my life.

I'm like to bust, girls. There'll be no sleep for me tonight. I'll read my book clean through before sunup."

Captain Jim had been handling the book in a kind of reverent rapture. Now he decidedly closed it and laid it

"No, no, you're not going away before you take a cup of tea with the old man," he protested. "I couldn't hear

to thatcould you, Matey? The lifebook will keep, I reckon. I've waited for it this many a year. I can wait a

Captain Jim moved about getting his kettle on to boil, and setting out his bread and butter. Despite his

excitement he did not move with his old briskness. His movements were slow and halting. But the girls did

"You just picked the right evening to visit me," he said, producing a cake from his cupboard. "Leetle Joe's

mother sent me down a big basket full of cakes and pies today. A blessing on all good cooks, says I. Look at

this purty cake, all frosting and nuts. 'Tain't often I can entertain in such style. Set in, girls, set in! We'll `tak a

The girls "set in" right merrily. The tea was up to Captain Jim's best brewing. Little Joe's mother's cake was

the last word in cakes; Captain Jim was the prince of gracious hosts, never even permitting his eyes to wander

to the corner where the lifebook lay, in all its bravery of green and gold. But when his door finally closed

behind Anne and Leslie they knew that he went straight to it, and as they walked home they pictured the

delight of the old man poring over the printed pages wherein his own life was portrayed with all the charm

She was never to know. Early the next morning Anne awakened to find Gilbert bending over her, fully

"No. Anne, I'm afraid there's something wrong at the Point. It's an hour after sunrise now, and the light is still

burning. You know it has always been a matter of pride with Captain Jim to start the light the moment the sun

Anne sat up in dismay. Through her window she saw the light blinking palely against the blue skies of dawn.

"Perhaps he has fallen asleep over his lifebook," she said anxiously, "or become so absorbed in it that he has

"Wait a minute and I'll go with you," exclaimed Anne. "Oh, yes, I mustLittle Jem will sleep for an hour

It was an exquisite morning, full of tints and sounds at once ripe and delicate. The harbor was sparkling and

dimpling like a girl; white gulls were soaring over the dunes; beyond the bar was a shining, wonderful sea.

The long fields by the shore were dewy and fresh in that first fine, purelytinted light. The wind came

dancing and whistling up the channel to replace the beautiful silence with a music more beautiful still. Had it

not been for the baleful star on the white tower that early walk would have been a delight to Anne and

The old room was very quiet. On the table were the remnants of the little evening feast. The lamp still burned

on the corner stand. The First Mate was asleep in a square of sunshine by the sofa.

Captain Jim lay on the sofa, with his hands clasped over the lifebook, open at the last page, lying on his

breast. His eyes were closed and on his face was a look of the most perfect peace and happinessthe look of

Gilbert went to the sofa and bent over him for a few moments. Then he straightened up.

"Yes, he sleepswell," he added quietly. "Anne, Captain Jim has crossed the bar."

They could not know precisely at what hour he had died, but Anne always believed that he had had his wish,

and went out when the morning came across the gulf. Out on that shining tide his spirit drifted, over the

sunrise sea of pearl and silver, to the haven where lost Margaret waited, beyond the storms and calms.

Captain Jim was buried in the little overharbor graveyard, very near to the spot where the wee white lady

slept. His relatives put up a very expensive, very ugly "monument"a monument at which he would have

poked sly fun had he seen it in life. But his real monument was in the hearts of those who knew him, and in

"How he would have delighted in the reviewsthey are almost all so kindly. And to have seen his lifebook

heading the lists of the best sellersoh, if he could just have lived to see it, Anne!"

"It was the book itself he cared for, Leslienot what might be said of itand he had it. He had read it all

through. That last night must have been one of the greatest happiness for himwith the quick, painless

ending he had hoped for in the morning. I am glad for Owen's sake and yours that the book is such a

The lighthouse star still kept a nightly vigil; a substitute keeper had been sent to the Point, until such time as

an allwise government could decide which of many applicants was best fitted for the placeor had the

strongest pull. The First Mate was at home in the little house, beloved by Anne and Gilbert and Leslie, and

"I can put up with him for the sake of Captain Jim, Mrs. Doctor, dear, for I liked the old man. And I will see

that he gets bite and sup, and every mouse the traps account for. But do not ask me to do more than that, Mrs.

Doctor, dear. Cats is cats, and take my word for it, they will never be anything else. And at least, Mrs.

Doctor, dear, do keep him away from the blessed wee man. Picture to yourself how awful it would be if he

"Cats never suck babies' breaths," said Gilbert. "That is only an old superstition, Susan."

"Oh, well, it may be a superstition or it may not, doctor, dear. All that I know is, it has happened. My sister's

husband's nephew's wife's cat sucked their baby's breath, and the poor innocent was all but gone when they

found it. And superstition or not, if I find that yellow beast lurking near our baby I will whack him with the

Mr. and Mrs. Marshall Elliott were living comfortably and harmoniously in the green house. Leslie was busy

with sewing, for she and Owen were to be married at Christmas. Anne wondered what she would do when

"Changes come all the time. Just as soon as things get really nice they change," she said with a sigh.

"The old Morgan place up at the Glen is for sale," said Gilbert, apropos of nothing in especial.

"Yes. Now that Mr. Morgan has gone, Mrs. Morgan wants to go to live with her children in Vancouver. She

will sell cheaply, for a big place like that in a small village like the Glen will not be very easy to dispose of."

"Well, it's certainly a beautiful place, so it is likely she will find a purchaser," said Anne, absently, wondering

whether she should hemstitch or featherstitch little Jem's "short" dresses. He was to be shortened the next

"And leave this darling spotour house of dreams?" said Anne incredulously. "Oh, Gilbert, it'sit's

"Listen patiently to me, dear. I know just how you feel about it. I feel the same. But we've always known we

"We may never get such a chance again. If we don't buy the Morgan place someone else willand there is

no other house in the Glen we would care to have, and no other really good site on which to build. This little

house iswell, it is and has been what no other house can ever be to us, I admit, but you know it is

outoftheway down here for a doctor. We have felt the inconvenience, though we've made the best of it.

And it's a tight fit for us now. Perhaps, in a few years, when Jem wants a room of his own, it will be entirely

"Oh, I knowI know," said Anne, tears filling her eyes. "I know all that can be said against it, but I love it

"You would find it very lonely here after Leslie goesand Captain Jim has gone too. The Morgan place is

beautiful, and in time we would love it. You know you have always admired it, Anne."

"Oh, yes, butbutthis has all seemed to come up so suddenly, Gilbert. I'm dizzy. Ten minutes ago I had

no thought of leaving this dear spot. I was planning what I meant to do for it in the spring what I meant to

do in the garden. And if we leave this place who will get it? It IS outoftheway, so it's likely some poor,

shiftless, wandering family will rent itand overrun itand oh, that would be desecration. It would hurt

"I know. But we cannot sacrifice our own interests to such considerations, Annegirl. The Morgan place will

suit us in every essential particularwe really can't afford to miss such a chance. Think of that big lawn with

those magnificent old trees; and of that splendid hardwood grove behind ittwelve acres of it. What a play

place for our children! There's a fine orchard, too, and you've always admired that high brick wall around the

garden with the door in ityou've thought it was so like a storybook garden. And there is almost as fine a

"Yes, You can see it from the attic window. THERE'S another advantage, Annegirlyou love big garrets."

"Well, no, but there is one running through the maple grove into the Glen pond. And the pond itself isn't far

"Well, don't say anything more about it just now, Gilbert. Give me time to thinkto get used to the idea."

"All right. There is no great hurry, of course. Onlyif we decide to buy, it would be well to be moved in and

Gilbert went out, and Anne put away Little Jem's short dresses with trembling hands. She could not sew any

more that day. With tearwet eyes she wandered over the little domain where she had reigned so happy a

queen. The Morgan place was all that Gilbert claimed. The grounds were beautiful, the house old enough to

have dignity and repose and traditions, and new enough to be comfortable and uptodate. Anne had always

admired it; but admiring is not loving; and she loved this house of dreams so much. She loved

EVERYTHING about itthe garden she had tended, and which so many women had tended before herthe

gleam and sparkle of the little brook that crept so roguishly across the cornerthe gate between the creaking

fir treesthe old red sandstone stepthe stately Lombardies the two tiny quaint glass cupboards over the

chimney piece in the livingroomthe crooked pantry door in the kitchen the two funny dormer

windows upstairsthe little jog in the staircase why, these things were a part of her! How could she leave

And how this little house, consecrated aforetime by love and joy, had been reconsecrated for her by her

happiness and sorrow! Here she had spent her bridal moon; here wee Joyce had lived her one brief day; here

the sweetness of motherhood had come again with Little Jem; here she had heard the exquisite music of her

baby's cooing laughter; here beloved friends had sat by her fireside. Joy and grief, birth and death, had made

And now she must leave it. She knew that, even while she had contended against the idea to Gilbert. The little

house was outgrown. Gilbert's interests made the change necessary; his work, successful though it had been,

was hampered by his location. Anne realised that the end of their life in this dear place drew nigh, and that

"It will be just like tearing something out of my life," she sobbed. "And oh, if I could hope that some nice

folk would come here in our placeor even that it would be left vacant. That itself would be better than

having it overrun with some horde who know nothing of the geography of dreamland, and nothing of the

history that has given this house its soul and its identity. And if such a tribe come here the place will go to

rack and ruin in no timean old place goes down so quickly if it is not carefully attended to. They'll tear up

my gardenand let the Lombardies get raggedand the paling will come to look like a mouth with half the

teeth missingand the roof will leakand the plaster falland they'll stuff pillows and rags in broken

Anne's imagination pictured forth so vividly the coming degeneration of her dear little house that it hurt her

as severely as if it had already been an accomplished fact. She sat down on the stairs and had a long, bitter

"You have not quarrelled with the doctor, have you now, Mrs. Doctor, dear? But if you have, do not worry. It

is a thing quite likely to happen to married couples, I am told, although I have had no experience that way

"No, no, Susan, we haven't quarrelled. It's onlyGilbert is going to buy the Morgan place, and we'll have to

Susan did not enter into Anne's feelings at all. She was, indeed, quite rejoiced over the prospect of living at

the Glen. Her one grievance against her place in the little house was its lonesome location.

"Why, Mrs. Doctor, dear, it will be splendid. The Morgan house is such a fine, big one."

"Oh, well, you will not hate them by the time you have half a dozen children," remarked Susan calmly. "And

this house is too small already for us. We have no spare room, since Mrs. Moore is here, and that pantry is the

most aggravating place I ever tried to work in. There is a corner every way you turn. Besides, it is

"Out of your world perhaps, Susanbut not out of mine," said Anne with a faint smile.

"I do not quite understand you, Mrs. Doctor, dear, but of course I am not well educated. But if Dr. Blythe

buys the Morgan place he will make no mistake, and that you may tie to. They have water in it, and the

pantries and closets are beautiful, and there is not another such cellar in P. E. Island, so I have been told.

Why, the cellar here, Mrs. Doctor, dear, has been a heartbreak to me, as well you know."

"Oh, go away, Susan, go away," said Anne forlornly. "Cellars and pantries and closets don't make a HOME.

"Well, I never was much hand for weeping, Mrs. Doctor, dear. I would rather fall to and cheer people up than

weep with them. Now, do not you cry and spoil your pretty eyes. This house is very well and has served your

Susan's point of view seemed to be that of most people. Leslie was the only one who sympathised

understandingly with Anne. She had a good cry, too, when she heard the news. Then they both dried their

"Since we must go let us go as soon as we can and have it over," said poor Anne with bitter resignation.

"You know you will like that lovely old place at the Glen after you have lived in it long enough to have dear

memories woven about it," said Leslie. "Friends will come there, as they have come here happiness will

glorify it for you. Now, it's just a house to youbut the years will make it a home."

Anne and Leslie had another cry the next week when they shortened Little Jem. Anne felt the tragedy of it

"But it will be rompers nextand then trousersand in no time he will be grownup," she sighed.

"Well, you would not want him to stay a baby always, Mrs. Doctor, dear, would you?" said Susan. "Bless his

innocent heart, he looks too sweet for anything in his little short dresses, with his dear feet sticking out. And

"Anne, I have just had a letter from Owen," said Leslie, entering with a bright face. "And, oh! I have such

good news. He writes me that he is going to buy this place from the church trustees and keep it to spend our

"Oh, Leslie, `glad' isn't the word for it! It seems almost too good to be true. I sha'n't feel half so badly now

that I know this dear spot will never be desecrated by a vandal tribe, or left to tumble down in decay. Why,

One October morning Anne wakened to the realisation that she had slept for the last time under the roof of

her little house. The day was too busy to indulge regret and when evening came the house was stripped and

bare. Anne and Gilbert were alone in it to say farewell. Leslie and Susan and Little Jem had gone to the Glen

with the last load of furniture. The sunset light streamed in through the curtainless windows.

"It has all such a heartbroken, reproachful look, hasn't it?" said Anne. "Oh, I shall be so homesick at the

"We have been very happy here, haven't we, Annegirl?" said Gilbert, his voice full of feeling.

Anne choked, unable to answer. Gilbert waited for her at the firtree gate, while she went over the house and

said farewell to every room. She was going away; but the old house would still be there, looking seaward

through its quaint windows. The autumn winds would blow around it mournfully, and the gray rain would

beat upon it and the white mists would come in from the sea to enfold it; and the moonlight would fall over it

and light up the old paths where the schoolmaster and his bride had walked. There on that old harbor shore

the charm of story would linger; the wind would still whistle alluringly over the silver sanddunes; the waves

She went out, closing and locking the door behind her. Gilbert was waiting for her with a smile. The

lighthouse star was gleaming northward. The little garden, where only marigolds still bloomed, was already