. We'll be home in twenty minutes."

"Home!" groaned Anne. "You mean we'll be in some horrible boardinghouse,
in a still more horrible hall bedroom, looking out on a dingy back
yard."

"It isn't a horrible boardinghouse, Anne-girl. Here's our cab. Hop
in--the driver will get your trunk. Oh, yes, the boardinghouse--it's
really a very nice place of its kind, as you'll admit tomorrow morning
when a good night's sleep has turned your blues rosy pink. It's a big,
old-fashioned, gray stone house on St. John Street, just a nice little
constitutional from Redmond. It used to be the 'residence' of great
folk, but fashion has deserted St. John Street and its houses only dream
now of better days. They're so big that people living in them have
to take boarders just to fill up. At least, that is the reason our
landladies are very anxious to impress on us. They're delicious,
Anne--our landladies, I mean."

"How many are there?"

"Two. Miss Hannah Harvey and Miss Ada Harvey. They were born twins about
fifty years ago."

"I can't get away from twins, it seems," smiled Anne. "Wherever I go
they confront me."

"Oh, they're not twins now, dear. After they reached the age of
thirty they never were twins again. Miss Hannah has grown old, not too
gracefully, and Miss Ada has stayed thirty, less gracefully still. I
don't know whether Miss Hannah can smile or not; I've never caught
her at it so far, but Miss Ada smiles all the time and that's worse.
However, they're nice, kind souls, and they take two boarders every
year because Miss Hannah's economical soul cannot bear to 'waste room
space'--not because they need to or have to, as Miss Ada has told me
seven times since Saturday night. As for our rooms, I admit they are
hall bedrooms, and mine does look out on the back yard. Your room is
a front one and looks out on Old St. John's graveyard, which is just
across the street."

"That sounds gruesome," shivered Anne. "I think I'd rather have the back
yard view."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't. Wait and see. Old St. John's is a darling place.
It's been a graveyard so long that it's ceased to be one and has become
one of the sights of Kingsport. I was all through it yesterday for a
pleasure exertion. There's a big stone wall and a row of enormous trees
all around it, and rows of trees all through it, and the queerest old
tombstones, with the queerest and quaintest inscriptions. You'll go
there to study, Anne, see if you don't. Of course, nobody