h Mr. Marshall.

The little party left 'Roseland' one warm afternoon in June, and sunset
found them all dusty and tired. Dunlop, sitting by his mother, absorbed
her attention. Martha was on the seat behind, with Arthur on her lap.
Anne, beside her, was looking out of the window with a puzzled air. The
willow-bordered river, the meadows and rolling hills, had a familiar
appearance; this fresh, woodsy, evening fragrance was an odor she had
known before; surely she had heard the names of the stations called by
the porter.

"Lewiston!" he shouted at last.

Anne started. It was her own home station. As in a dream, she saw in the
twilight the familiar red road shambling over the hills, the dingy
little station with men and boys loafing on the platform, the houses
scattered here and there among trees and gardens. It all came back to
her. This was the route she and her mother had often travelled. A little
way off was the water-tank set in a clump of willows by the roadside.
'Lewis Hall' was on the hill just beyond. In the deepening twilight,
she could not see the square house among the trees.

A great longing for home possessed her. She slipped past Martha dozing
with Arthur asleep in her lap; hardly knowing what she did, she ran to
the rear of the car. The train was about to stop at the tank. Anne put
her hand on the door-knob. It resisted. A lump came in her throat. Again
she tried the knob. This time it yielded to her pressure. She stepped on
the platform and closed the door behind her. As the train jerked and
stood still, she almost fell but she quickly recovered herself and
scrambled down the steps.

She stood in a well-remembered thicket of willows. A few steps away was
a footpath--how it all came back to her!--winding among the willows.
Clasping Honey-Sweet close, Anne walked a little way down the path. Then
she turned and looked back. The train was puffing and panting, lights
were gleaming from its windows. There sat Mrs. Marshall, coaxing
Dunlop, and there was Arthur cuddled in Martha's lap.

As Anne looked, the train moved slowly away, gathering speed as it went.
Its lights gleamed and faded in the darkness. It was gone. She gazed
after it, with a queer tightness about her throat. Then she walked
steadily down the footpath, across the meadow, through a gate, and along
the hillside. On top of that tree-clad hill was her old home. From one
well-remembered room, flickered lights that seemed to beckon and summon
th