likely she knows more about the process than I do."

"I will, the next time I see her," said Davy gravely.

"Davy! If you do!" cried Anne, realizing her mistake.

"But you just told me to," protested Davy aggrieved.

"It's time you went to bed," decreed Anne, by way of getting out of the
scrape.

After Davy had gone to bed Anne wandered down to Victoria Island and sat
there alone, curtained with fine-spun, moonlit gloom, while the water
laughed around her in a duet of brook and wind. Anne had always loved
that brook. Many a dream had she spun over its sparkling water in
days gone by. She forgot lovelorn youths, and the cayenne speeches of
malicious neighbors, and all the problems of her girlish existence. In
imagination she sailed over storied seas that wash the distant shining
shores of "faery lands forlorn," where lost Atlantis and Elysium lie,
with the evening star for pilot, to the land of Heart's Desire. And she
was richer in those dreams than in realities; for things seen pass away,
but the things that are unseen are eternal.




Chapter II

Garlands of Autumn