"No--or if they are, it is so far back it's been lost. When I was little I used to see them occasionally, but they've never gone around much. They have always been very poor. They had a brother, but he went away from the Island when he was young--I think he must have died." "I am going to _pretend_ we're related," declared Nancy, "because I just love them. They took us in during the storm. And--and I have a dear chum, my very best chum, whose name is Anne Leavitt, too, and I am sure they are her aunts." She told Aunt Sabrina, then, in a sketchy way, of her four years' friendship with the other Anne Leavitt. The windows of the sitting-room had been opened after the storm to let out the dust from the fallen mortar and brick. The blinds had not been closed again. Through the windows streamed a flood of sunshine. With an impulsive movement Nancy closed the book and laid it down on the table. Her manner said plainly that thus they would dispose of all the past-and-gone Leavitts. She nodded toward the gaping fireplace. "Let's have a _new_ mantel made with Happy House carved in it, Aunt Sabrina. And, I think, it _will_ be a Happy House, now." There was a great deal Nancy wanted to tell Aunt Sabrina--of her father, and of their happy life together. But she had suddenly, with consternation, remembered the eloquent confession she had sent off to Peter Hyde. "And I didn't need to--for I _am_ Anne Leavitt!" As quickly as she could break away from her aunt, she ran off in search of Jonathan. She found him tying up some of his vines that had been beaten down in the storm. "Jonathan--that letter I gave you--did--did you give it to--to Mr. Hyde?" she asked with a faint hope that he had' not. "Yes'm! Caught him jes' agoin' to take the stage." "Going _away_?" Nancy cried. "Yes'm. He hed a big bag and he give me a handshake like he was goin' to be away for a spell, tho' it's most harvestin' and he's not the kind to leave Judson short-handed--not him." After a moment Nancy grew conscious that old Jonathan was staring curiously at her. So she turned and walked slowly back to the house. Peter Hyde had gone away--without a word! He would read her letter--he would always think of her as she had pictured herself in it! And he might never know how the curious tangle had come out! CHAPTER XXVII ARCHIE EATON RETURNS Liz, returning from her "afternoon's work at the meeting house, blew breathlessly into the Hopworth kitchen. "As I live, Archie Eaton's comin' home--this blessed day! His ma got a telegram last night; Sammy Todd brought it over from Nor' Hero on his bicycle. And Webb's put a notice in the post-office--he wants every man, woman and child to meet on the Common to-night at seven to sort o' welcome Archie to home." "Everybody? Me and Davy," broke in Nonie, excitedly. "Of course, when Webb says every man, woman and child it means all of us," answered Liz with importance, smoothing out her gingham apron.