there is the
lure of gray woods and of gray water lapping on the harbor rocks?"

"If I was as young as you, I'd decide in favor of the park," said Aunt
Jamesina, tickling Joseph's yellow ear with a knitting needle.

"I thought that you claimed to be as young as any of us, Aunty," teased
Anne.

"Yes, in my soul. But I'll admit my legs aren't as young as yours. You
go and get some fresh air, Anne. You look pale lately."

"I think I'll go to the park," said Anne restlessly. "I don't feel like
tame domestic joys today. I want to feel alone and free and wild. The
park will be empty, for every one will be at the football match."

"Why didn't you go to it?"

"'Nobody axed me, sir, she said'--at least, nobody but that horrid
little Dan Ranger. I wouldn't go anywhere with him; but rather than hurt
his poor little tender feelings I said I wasn't going to the game at
all. I don't mind. I'm not in the mood for football today somehow."

"You go and get some fresh air," repeated Aunt Jamesina, "but take your
umbrella, for I believe it's going to rain. I've rheumatism in my leg."

"Only old people should have rheumatism, Aunty."

"Anybody is liable to rheumatism in her legs, Anne. It's only old people
who should have rheumatism in their souls, though. Thank goodness, I
never have. When you get rheumatism in your soul you might as well go
and pick out your coffin."

It was November--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep,
sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed
through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great
sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul. Anne was not wont to be
troubled with soul fog. But, somehow, since her return to Redmond for
this third year, life had not mirrored her spirit back to her with its
old, perfect, sparkling clearness.

Outwardly, existence at Patty's Place was the same pleasant round
of work and study and recreation that it had always been. On Friday
evenings the big, fire-lighted livingroom was crowded by callers
and echoed to endless jest and laughter, while Aunt Jamesina smiled
beamingly on them all. The "Jonas" of Phil's letter came often, running
up from St. Columbia on the early train and departing on the late. He
was a general favorite at Patty's Place, though Aunt Jamesina shook her
head and opined that divinity students were not what they used to be.

"He's VERY nice, my dear," she told Phil, "but ministers ought to b