e and
stretched out in it with a happy little sigh.

"I thought _I'd_ never get here! It seems as though this is way off in
the corner of the world. And I'm just tired enough to find the--the
_quiet_ downright restful."

Aunt Milly laughed. "I've been worrying over the 'quiet.' It's so
dreadfully quiet here--for young folks. I was afraid it would make you
homesick. Now tell me all about your trip and your Commencement. I've
been going over in my mind just what your Commencement must have been
like--ever since Sabrina told me we had a niece who was a Senior in
college. It must be wonderful!" she finished, with just the tiniest
bit of a sigh.

Suddenly Nancy realized that here was someone hungry to know all that
was going on in the world outside of North Hero--not the world of men
and women, but her girl's world--that world that had ended Commencement
Day. She told a few little things about Senior Week, then, a little
homesick for all that had just been left behind, she rattled off one
recollection after another with an enthusiasm that kindled an answering
fire in Miss Milly's eyes.

"I can't _bear_ to think it's all over--except that life itself is one
grand adventure and probably, after a little, I'll look back on the
school days and think how empty they were of--real things!" Then
Nancy, looking down at the frail white hand that clasped her own,
thought with a sort of shock that life was scarcely an adventure for
poor Miss Milly. But Miss Milly answered contentedly. "I love to hear
all about it. I'm glad you had it, my dear. I hope you'll come in and
talk with me often--it's like sunshine hearing your young voice!"

"Oh, I shall _like_ to. You won't think I'm dreadful, will you, if I
tell you that Aunt Sabrina frightens me awfully and so does
B'lindy--just a little. But you don't seem a bit like them."

Miss Milly laughed outright--a laugh that had a silver tinkle in it.
"No, I suppose I'm not--a bit like them."

"So when I'm so frightened I don't know what to do I shall come
straight to you. And, please, Aunt Milly, will _you_ call me Nancy?
No one has ever called me anything but that and it makes me feel--like
someone else--when they call me Anne. Aunt Sabrina was horrified when
I asked her."

"Yes--she would be! Of course I shall call you Nancy--or anything that
you wish! I can't be much company for you, dear, tied to this couch,
but you can bring a great deal of happiness to me."

A