ame. Please come back."

Anne paused, but did not turn her head.

"This little boy has been ill," Martha continued. "He's just getting
over fever. And he's notiony. Won't you please tell that story to him?"

Anne walked slowly back. "I do not mind telling him the story," she
answered with grave dignity. "I'm always telling stories to the girls.
But he must ask me proper. I don't 'low for to be spoken to that way."

"Martha said 'please' to you," mumbled Dunlop, digging his toe in the
turf.

"You want me to tell the story," said Anne.

There was a brief silence.

"I'll cry," he threatened.

"I don't have to keep you from crying," said Anne, with spirit. "Come
on, Honey-Sweet."

"Please, you little girl," said Dunlop, hastily.

"And the princess walked on and on," continued Anne, as if the story had
not been interrupted. "The low briers tore her dress, the tall briers
scratched her hands and pulled her hair. It was getting da-a-rk so she
could hardly see the path. Then all at once she saw a bright light ahead
of her. It got brighter and brighter and it came from a little cabin in
the woods."

And in the happy land of 'make believe' Anne roamed until the tea-bell
called her back to the real world.

Where, meanwhile, were Anne's old friends, Miss Drayton and Pat? Let me
hasten to assure you that Pat was not so unmindful of his little adopted
sister as he seemed. He hated to write letters and never wrote any
except the briefest of duty letters to his father and his Aunt Sarah. He
took it for granted that the separation from Anne was only for a time.
She could not come to a boys' camp and she would have to attend a girls'
school. Later, she would be with them--father, Aunt Sarah, and himself.
Of course she would, always. Mother had said she was his adopted sister.
And she was a jolly dear little thing.

Miss Drayton knew better. She was disturbed at learning from one of Mr.
Patterson's brief, matter-of-course letters that Anne had been sent to
an orphanage. If she had known the plan beforehand, she would have had
Anne sent to her. But as the step was taken, she accepted it and Anne
slipped out of her life.

Pat had a jolly summer. Camp Riverview was on New River, where, a clear
mountain stream, it begins its journey to the ocean. The boys' tent was
pitched on a level, grassy glade with rolling hills, cleared or wooded,
behind it. Across the river rose rocky bluffs where dwarfed oaks
struggled for a foothold.