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Can you take the day?" Anne's "crowd," the half-dozen good friends among the many acquaintances she had formed in the city, were invited for a day in the country. She and Burt now talked it over, agreeing to meet in time to take the nine-thirty train, with the others. But at nine, next morning, Burt had not appeared at the studio; instead, Miss Gilbert had a telephone message that Mr. Winchester was delayed, but would call as soon as possible. It was unlike Burt, but Anne, sensibly, supposed that business had intervened, and, removing her hat, was glad to remember that she had not definitely accepted the invitation when it was given. The "crowd" were sure enough of each other and of themselves to appear casual: Burt and she could take a later train, and have just as warm a welcome. At nine-thirty Burt appeared, explaining briefly, "Best I could do. There's a train in twenty minutes, we'll catch it if we hurry." Anne hurried, which proved to be unnecessary, as the train seemed late in starting; during the trip there was little conversation, as Anne was tactful, and Burt preoccupied. "Branton!" called the conductor, at least it sounded like Branton, Burt came out of his revery with a start, and Anne followed him down the aisle. They stood a moment upon the platform of the quiet little station and watched the train pull out; as they turned back into what seemed the principal street, Anne craned her neck to look around an inconvenient truck piled with baggage, and made out the sign, Byrnton. "Oh, Burt, what were we thinking of?" she exclaimed. "This isn't the right place at all! We were to take the road up past a brick church--and there isn't any here--this is Byrnton, and we wanted Branton. What shall we do--why don't you say something?" "Fudge!" said Burt, soberly, but in his eyes the dancing light he reserved for Anne. "I'll ask the ticket-agent." He came out of the station, smiling. "This isn't the Branton line at all, but a short branch west of it," he informed her. "We took the wrong train, but he says lots of people make the same mistake, and they are going to change one name or the other, eventually. I am to blame, Nan, for I know this place, Byrnton; I have, or used to have, an Aunt Susan here, somewhere--shall we look her up? We have nearly three hours to kill. It will be afternoon before we can get to Branton--and Aunt Susan will give us nourishment, at least, if she's home." "Very well," Anne
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