she
talked "Barry," if they were only politely attentive, in her proud
enthusiasm, she never noticed.

Now Nancy, instead of saying truthfully that "_she_ wasn't going to
spend her summer helping make a parlor pet out of the 'lion,'" simply
shook her head and frowned.

"Claire, don't tease me! Of course I know how nice it would be to swim
and dance and play tennis and all sorts of things, but I must work!"
and she finished with the decided tone that was like Anne's.

Claire looked unhappy. "_I_ don't want to go and dance and swim and
play around, though it is nice, but I can't write and I can't go to
Russia, so I'll just _have_ to go and do what the others in my crowd
all do, and I suppose you'll think I'm a butterfly when I'm _really_
perfectly miserable!"

Nancy controlled a smile. "Bless you, we won't think you're anything
but just the apple of our eyes. The world needs butterflies to keep it
beautiful and gay. Your adventure, Claire, is waiting for you, maybe,
around the corner. That's what Mother Finnegan is always saying! And
after my 'Child' is finished I promise I'll come and play with you!"

Claire was only a little cheered.

"But Barry may not be there, then. Mother says he's dreadfully
restless. He may be gone now!"

A knock at the door saved Nancy from an answer.

It was old Noah, the porter. He held a letter in his hand.

"It's fer Mis' Anne Leavitt and I'm blessed if I know which one of yez
so, I sez, I'll jes' take it to the two of yez and let you toss up fer
it!"

It was not unusual for the two girls to find their mail confused. They
generally distinguished by the handwriting or the postmarks. But now
they both stared at the letter they took from Noah's hand.

It was addressed in a fine, old-fashioned handwriting.

"_I_ can't recognize it," exclaimed one Anne Leavitt.

"I'm sure _I_ never saw it before!" cried the other.

"Isn't this exciting? Let me see the postmark. F-r-e-e-d-o-m!"
spelled Nancy. "I never heard of it," she declared.

"I believe it's mine! I have some relatives--or did have--a great aunt
or something, who lived near a place like that way up on North Hero
Island. I'd forgotten all about them. Open it, Claire, and let's see
what it is."'

"You never told _us_ about any aunt on any North Hero Island! It
sounds like a romance, Anne," accused Nancy, who thought she knew
everything about her friend.

Anne laughed. "I don't wonder you think so. I jus