floating high up aloft, specks in the infinite blue; and then there were
drives along the coast towards the north, where the wholesome wind blew
fresher than in the woods; and quiet evenings in the roomy house, where
all that was asked of them was that they should be happy.

"It's a lovely plan, isn't it, Letty?" she said joyously, the evening
before they were to arrive, as she stood with her arm round Letty's
shoulder at the bottom of the garden, where they had both been watching
the sails of the fishing-smacks during those short sunset moments when
they looked like the bright wings of spirits moving over the face of the
placid waters.

"I should rather think it was," replied Letty, who was profoundly
interested.

They got up at sunrise the next morning, and went out into the forest in
search of hepaticas and windflowers with which to decorate the three
bedrooms. These bedrooms were the largest and pleasantest in the house.
Anna had given up her own because she thought the windows particularly
pleasing, and had gone into a little one in the fervour of her desire to
lavish all that was best on her new friends. The rooms were furnished
with special care, an immense amount of thought having been bestowed on
the colour of the curtains, the pattern of the porcelain, and the books
filling the shelves above each writing-table. The colours and patterns
were the nearest approach Berlin could produce to Anna's own favourite
colours and patterns. She wasted half her time, when the rooms were
ready, sitting in them and picturing what her own delight would have
been if she, like the poor ladies for whom they were intended, had come
straight out of a cold, unkind world into such pretty havens.

The choice of books had been a great difficulty, and there had been much
correspondence on the subject with Berlin before a selection had been
made. Books there must be, for no room, she thought, was habitable
without them; and she had tried to imagine what manner of literature
would most appeal to her unhappy ones. It was to be presumed that their
ages were such as to exclude frivolity; therefore she bought very few
novels. She thought Dickens translated into German would be a safe
choice; also Schlegel's Shakespeare for loftier moments. The German
classics were represented by Goethe in one room, Schiller in another,
and Heine in the third. In each room also there was a German-English
dictionary, for the facilitation of intercourse. Fina