cat and dog, the footsteps of friends--and
YOU!"

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking
over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

"I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again
today will you give me a different answer?"

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all
the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a
moment. He wanted no other answer.

They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet as dusk in Eden
must have been, crept over it. There was so much to talk over and
recall--things said and done and heard and thought and felt and
misunderstood.

"I thought you loved Christine Stuart," Anne told him, as reproachfully
as if she had not given him every reason to suppose that she loved Roy
Gardner.

Gilbert laughed boyishly.

"Christine was engaged to somebody in her home town. I knew it and she
knew I knew it. When her brother graduated he told me his sister was
coming to Kingsport the next winter to take music, and asked me if I
would look after her a bit, as she knew no one and would be very lonely.
So I did. And then I liked Christine for her own sake. She is one of
the nicest girls I've ever known. I knew college gossip credited us with
being in love with each other. I didn't care. Nothing mattered much to
me for a time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne.
There was nobody else--there never could be anybody else for me but you.
I've loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in
school."

"I don't see how you could keep on loving me when I was such a little
fool," said Anne.

"Well, I tried to stop," said Gilbert frankly, "not because I thought
you what you call yourself, but because I felt sure there was no chance
for me after Gardner came on the scene. But I couldn't--and I can't tell
you, either, what it's meant to me these two years to believe you were
going to marry him, and be told every week by some busybody that your
engagement was on the point of being announced. I believed it until one
blessed day when I was sitting up after the fever. I got a letter from
Phil Gordon--Phil Blake, rather--in which she told me there was really
nothing between you and Roy, and advised me to 'try again.' Well, the
doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery after that."

Anne laughed--then shivered.

"I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gil