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unfading echoes of the old sweet life were all about her . She and Gilbert had come up for the funeral of his father and Anne had stayed for a week. Lynde had put a big, homey bouquet of spring flowers in it for her .

Anne always loved to come home to Avonlea even when, as now, the reason for her visit had been a sad one. Her old porch gable room was always kept for her and when Anne had gone to it the night of her arrival she found that Mrs. a bouquet that, when Anne buried her face in it, seemed to hold all the fragrance of unforgotten years.

The Sloanes are still Sloanes, Anne, and will be for ever and ever, world without end, amen." "Let there be as many Sloanes as there will, I'm going out after supper to walk all over the old orchard by moonlight.

He could have had so many nice girls.' Perhaps that's why I've never liked her .

"And the first time she saw me after I was married she said, 'It's so strange Gilbert picked you. and I know Gilbert doesn't either, though he's too clannish to admit it." "Will Gilbert be staying up long?

though I've always thought sleeping on moonlight nights a waste of time . The sky will turn to coral and the robins will be strutting around . But the moonlight could not hide that she was something stouter than in years agone .

but I'm going to wake early to see the first faint morning light steal over the Haunted Wood. perhaps a little grey sparrow will light on the windowsill . Lynde sadly, as she waddled downstairs, feeling secretly relieved that there need be no more talk about the moon. And there did not any longer seem to be much use in hoping she would outgrow it. Even in the moonlight you saw that her hair was still black and her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright. and Diana had never been what Avonlea folks called "skinny." "Don't worry, darling .

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