roguish, little laugh. The sea took her
from me, but some day I'll find her. Mistress Blythe. It can't keep
us apart forever."

"I am glad you have told me about her," said Anne. "I have often
wondered why you had lived all your life alone."

"I couldn't ever care for anyone else. Lost Margaret took my heart
with her--out there," said the old lover, who had been faithful for
fifty years to his drowned sweetheart. "You won't mind if I talk a
good deal about her, will you, Mistress Blythe? It's a pleasure to
me--for all the pain went out of her memory years ago and jest left its
blessing. I know you'll never forget her, Mistress Blythe. And if the
years, as I hope, bring other little folks to your home, I want you to
promise me that you'll tell THEM the story of lost Margaret, so that
her name won't be forgotten among humankind."

CHAPTER 21

BARRIERS SWEPT AWAY

"Anne," said Leslie, breaking abruptly a short
silence, "you don't know how GOOD it is to be sitting here with you
again--working--and talking--and being silent together."

They were sitting among the blue-eyed grasses on the bank of the brook
in Anne's garden. The water sparkled and crooned past them; the
birches threw dappled shadows over them; roses bloomed along the walks.
The sun was beginning to be low, and the air was full of woven music.
There was one music of the wind in the firs behind the house, and
another of the waves on the bar, and still another from the distant
bell of the church near which the wee, white lady slept. Anne loved
that bell, though it brought sorrowful thoughts now.

She looked curiously at Leslie, who had thrown down her sewing and
spoken with a lack of restraint that was very unusual with her.

"On that horrible night when you were so ill," Leslie went on, "I kept
thinking that perhaps we'd have no more talks and walks and WORKS
together. And I realised just what your friendship had come to mean to
me--just what YOU meant--and just what a hateful little beast I had
been."

"Leslie! Leslie! I never allow anyone to call my friends names."

"It's true. That's exactly what I am--a hateful little beast. There's
something I've GOT to tell you, Anne. I suppose it will make you
despise me, but I MUST confess it. Anne, there have been times this
past winter and spring when I have HATED you."

"I KNEW it," said Anne calmly.

"You KNEW it?"

"Yes, I saw it in your eyes."

"And yet you went on liking m