and spoil your pretty eyes. This house is very well and has
served your turn, but it is high time you had a better."

Susan's point of view seemed to be that of most people. Leslie was the
only one who sympathised understandingly with Anne. She had a good
cry, too, when she heard the news. Then they both dried their tears
and went to work at the preparations for moving.

"Since we must go let us go as soon as we can and have it over," said
poor Anne with bitter resignation.

"You know you will like that lovely old place at the Glen after you
have lived in it long enough to have dear memories woven about it,"
said Leslie. "Friends will come there, as they have come
here--happiness will glorify it for you. Now, it's just a house to
you--but the years will make it a home."

Anne and Leslie had another cry the next week when they shortened
Little Jem. Anne felt the tragedy of it until evening when in his long
nightie she found her own dear baby again.

"But it will be rompers next--and then trousers--and in no time he will
be grown-up," she sighed.

"Well, you would not want him to stay a baby always, Mrs. Doctor, dear,
would you?" said Susan. "Bless his innocent heart, he looks too sweet
for anything in his little short dresses, with his dear feet sticking
out. And think of the save in the ironing, Mrs. Doctor, dear."

"Anne, I have just had a letter from Owen," said Leslie, entering with
a bright face. "And, oh! I have such good news. He writes me that he
is going to buy this place from the church trustees and keep it to
spend our summer vacations in. Anne, are you not glad?"

"Oh, Leslie, 'glad' isn't the word for it! It seems almost too good to
be true. I sha'n't feel half so badly now that I know this dear spot
will never be desecrated by a vandal tribe, or left to tumble down in
decay. Why, it's lovely! It's lovely!"

One October morning Anne wakened to the realisation that she had slept
for the last time under the roof of her little house. The day was too
busy to indulge regret and when evening came the house was stripped and
bare. Anne and Gilbert were alone in it to say farewell. Leslie and
Susan and Little Jem had gone to the Glen with the last load of
furniture. The sunset light streamed in through the curtainless
windows.

"It has all such a heart-broken, reproachful look, hasn't it?" said
Anne. "Oh, I shall be so homesick at the Glen tonight!"

"We have been very happy here, ha