the Chesapeake. Just fancy!"

Anne paused by the railing and looked at the worn stone, her pulses
thrilling with sudden excitement. The old graveyard, with its
over-arching trees and long aisles of shadows, faded from her sight.
Instead, she saw the Kingsport Harbor of nearly a century agone. Out of
the mist came slowly a great frigate, brilliant with "the meteor flag of
England." Behind her was another, with a still, heroic form, wrapped in
his own starry flag, lying on the quarter deck--the gallant Lawrence.
Time's finger had turned back his pages, and that was the Shannon
sailing triumphant up the bay with the Chesapeake as her prize.

"Come back, Anne Shirley--come back," laughed Philippa, pulling her arm.
"You're a hundred years away from us. Come back."

Anne came back with a sigh; her eyes were shining softly.

"I've always loved that old story," she said, "and although the
English won that victory, I think it was because of the brave, defeated
commander I love it. This grave seems to bring it so near and make it
so real. This poor little middy was only eighteen. He 'died of desperate
wounds received in gallant action'--so reads his epitaph. It is such as
a soldier might wish for."

Before she turned away, Anne unpinned the little cluster of purple
pansies she wore and dropped it softly on the grave of the boy who had
perished in the great sea-duel.

"Well, what do you think of our new friend?" asked Priscilla, when Phil
had left them.

"I like her. There is something very lovable about her, in spite of all
her nonsense. I believe, as she says herself, that she isn't half as
silly as she sounds. She's a dear, kissable baby--and I don't know that
she'll ever really grow up."

"I like her, too," said Priscilla, decidedly. "She talks as much about
boys as Ruby Gillis does. But it always enrages or sickens me to hear
Ruby, whereas I just wanted to laugh good-naturedly at Phil. Now, what
is the why of that?"

"There is a difference," said Anne meditatively. "I think it's because
Ruby is really so CONSCIOUS of boys. She plays at love and love-making.
Besides, you feel, when she is boasting of her beaux that she is doing
it to rub it well into you that you haven't half so many. Now, when Phil
talks of her beaux it sounds as if she was just speaking of chums. She
really looks upon boys as good comrades, and she is pleased when she has
dozens of them tagging round, simply because she likes to be popular and
to