e, _weren't_ we happy, though? And to think it's all over.

"Aunt Sabrina is very handsome and very Leavitty. I think Anne, in her
manner, when we've done something she doesn't approve of, is like her
Aunt Sabrina. She's very tall and parts her hair straight in the
middle and has the longest, straightest nose and a way of talking to
you that makes you feel like an atom. B'lindy, who is the
woman-of-all-work around Happy House, but Somebody, just you believe,
is very much like Aunt Sabrina and looks at you as if she could see the
littlest thought way back in your mind. And, of course, with me acting
a part and feeling as guilty as can be, you can imagine that I don't
enjoy B'lindy's searching glance! However, I asked her some questions
about the Leavitts and it warmed her up a little.

"But there is an Aunt Milly that Anne didn't seem to know about and,
Claire, _she_ is human--the dearest, sweetest, prettiest, timidest
little thing. You can't tell, looking at her, whether she is old or
not, but being my great-aunt--or Anne's--I suppose she is. But she is
an invalid and evidently can't walk. There's something about her that
makes you feel dreadfully sorry for her and like taking care of her,
and I sort of imagine that for some reason or other Aunt Sabrina treats
her horridly. When Aunt Sabrina comes into the room, poor Aunt Milly
acts scared to death.

"Just how I'll come out of it all I can't guess. I've got to keep my
head and see the thing through for Anne's sake. But--so far--I don't
like it a bit. It was easy enough planning it all with Anne back in
college, but somehow, now that I'm here, I feel so underhanded,
deceiving these people. And Miss Sabrina talks so much about the
Leavitt honor that it makes me feel like thirty cents. There is a lot
of mystery about the place, but I feel as though I had no right to try
and find it out, though I'll admit I'm dreadfully curious. I rode over
from North Hero with the funniest old man--his name is Webb and he said
he was one of Freedom's 'first citizens.' Modest--yes. Well, with a
very little encouragement he would have poured out the entire Leavitt
history, only it didn't seem nice to let him talk. But he spoke about
a 'Leavitt trouble,' and he said something about Miss Milly being
'happier in the grave.' Isn't that interesting? And the very
strangest thing of all is that Aunt Sabrina has forbidden me to ever
_mention_ my father--or Anne's father and gr