he
whispered, "I was hungry for you at The Breakers, although it was
lovely there, and every one was so kind."

"I shall miss you too, dear heart," said the little grandmother, but
she did not say how much, for she wanted Anne to go away happily, and
she felt that she must not be selfish.

It was wonderful the planning that went on after that. Anne spent many
days at the big house in Fairfax, and each time she went it was a
tenderer, dearer Judy that welcomed her.

"Father will stay with grandfather this winter. I begged to stay, too,
but they both think the schools here are not what I need, and so I am
to go away," she explained one morning as she and Anne were getting
ready to go with a party of young people to pick goldenrod.

"Yes," said Anne, putting her red reefer over her white dress, and
admiring the effect.

"I hate school," began Judy, sticking in a hat-pin viciously, then she
stopped and laughed, "No, I don't, either. I don't hate anything since
father came back."

"Not even cats?" asked Anne, demurely.

"No. You know I love Belinda."

"Nor picnics?"

"Not Fairfax ones."

"Nor books?"

"I just love 'em--thanks to you."

"Nor--nor boys--?" mischievously.

"Oh, do stop your questions," and Judy put her hands over her ears.
But Anne persisted, "Nor boys, Judy?"

"I like Launcelot Bart--and--little Jimmie Jones, but I am not sure
about Tommy Tolliver, Anne."

And then they both laughed light-heartedly, and tripped down-stairs to
find Amelia and Nannie and Tommy waiting for them.

"Launcelot couldn't come," explained Tommy. "He had to go to Upper
Fairfax, and he said he was awfully sorry, but he didn't dare to take
so much time away from the farm."

"Poor fellow," sighed tender-hearted little Anne. "He is always so
busy."

"I don't think he is to be pitied," said Judy, with a scornful glance
at Tommy. "He has work to do and he does it, which is more than most
people do."

There was gold in the sunshine, and gold in the changing leaves, and
gold in the ripened grain in the fields, and gold in the goldenrod
which they had come to pick.

Tommy gathered great armfuls of the feathery bloom, and the girls made
it into bunches, while Terry, who had come with them, whuffed at the
chipmunks on the gray fence-rails.

"What do you want it for?" asked Tommy, sitting down beside the busy
maidens and wiping his warm forehead.

"To-morrow is Judy's birthday," said Anne, "and we are going to