"Oh, but, Mrs. Lewis, I could not stay here alone," cried Anne, a hundred thoughts rushing tumultuously into her mind. "It could not be." "Not stay here alone! Why, what is to hinder it? Do you suppose you would get run away with? Now, my dear, we will have no trouble, if you please. You will stay at home like a good girl--therefore you may unpack your box." Anne went straight to her father, and found him with Herbert Tanerton. He had walked over from Timberdale to inquire after the doctor's health. "Could this be, papa?" she said. "That I am to be left alone here while you stay at Worcester?" "Don't talk nonsense, child," was the peevish answer. "My belief is that you dream dreams, Anne, and then fancy them realities." "But Mrs. Lewis tells me that I am not to go to Worcester--that I am to stay at home," persisted Anne. And she said it before Mrs. Lewis: who had come into the room then, and was shaking hands with the parson. "I think, love, it will be so much better for dear Anne to remain here and see to things," she said, in that sweet company-voice of hers. "No," dissented the doctor, plucking up the courage to be firm. "If Anne stays here, I shall stay. I'm sure I should be thankful if you'd let us stay: we should have a bit of peace and quiet." She did not make a fuss before the parson. Perhaps she saw that to hold out might cause some unprofitable commotion. Treating Anne to a beaming smile, she remarked that her dear papa's wish was of course law, and bade her run and finish her packing. And when they arrived the next day at Lake's, and Anne heard that Henry Angerstyne was in truth still there and knew that she should soon be in his presence, it did indeed seem to her that she had stepped into paradise. She was alone when he entered. The others had sought their respective chambers, leaving Anne to gather up their packages and follow, and she had her bonnet untied and her arms full of things when he came into the room. Paradise! she might have experienced some bliss in her life, but none like unto this. Her veins were tingling, her heart-blood leaping. How well he looked! how noble! how superior to other men! As he caught her hand in his, and bent to whisper his low words of greeting, she could scarcely contain within bounds the ecstasy of her emotion. "I am so glad you are back again, Anne! I could not believe the good news when the letter came to Mrs. Lake this morning. You have been away two weeks, and they have seemed like months." "You did not come over: you said you should," faltered Anne. "Ay. And I sprained my foot the day you left, and have had to nurse it. It is not strong yet. Bad luck, was it not? Bristow has been worse, too. Where are you going?" "I must take these things up to papa and Mrs. Lewis. Please let me go." But, before he would release her hand, he suddenly bent his head and kissed her: once, twice.