utside the door of the Mill Farm, and heard this same
laughing voice within.

"Miss Lacey is watching for us." Edna took Thinkright's arm, and they
began to walk up the path through a green meadow. Snowdrifts of daisies
whitened the field. "The dear things are lasting so much longer than
usual this year," said Edna, as Sylvia exclaimed over their charm. "We
have the last of things out in this exposed spot, you see, and I think
it's quite as pleasant as having the first of them the way you do in
your sheltered nook."

The breeze freshened as they ascended, and at last they stood on the
crest of the green ridge.

To the south of the island the pointed firs made a dark, irregular
sky-line against the azure. Here there were no trees, nothing to
obstruct the illimitable stretches of water and picturesque shore. It
was a nearer and more overwhelming view of what had taken Sylvia's
breath when she discovered the mighty sea on that first day, driving to
the Mill Farm.

How far away seemed that day and the sore heart whose resentment
embittered all the beauty; when her hand was against every man because
she believed every man's hand to be against her.

As the three stood there, watching, in silence, Edna saw the blue eyes
fill, and her heart warmed toward her guest, although she could not
guess at the flood of feeling that forced those bright drops from their
fountain.

CHAPTER XIX

A NOR'EASTER

Anemone Cottage was built partly of boulders taken from the shore. Its
roomy porch was supported by pillars of the same stone. The bluish tint
of balsam firs stood out against the darker foliage of the evergreens
that surrounded it, and such trees as cut off the superb view from the
piazza had been removed, leaving vistas which were an exaltation to the
beholder.

The beauty of the place sank into Sylvia's heart, and as Miss Martha
appeared on the porch to meet the guests, the light of hospitality
shone in her face, and the girl forgot that it had ever been difficult
to greet her aunt warmly.

"Your sail has given you sharp appetites, I'm sure," said Miss Martha,
"and dinner is just going to be put on the table."

They all moved into the living-room. It ran the full width of the
cottage and had a wide, deep fireplace opposite the door. A round
centre-table covered with books and periodicals, an upright piano, and
numerous armchairs as comfortable as they were light, furnished the
room.

"How charming!" exclaime