She knew so little of the
outside world that few forebodings as to her own immediate present
troubled her. She was on her way to a school where she would study hard,
so as soon to be able to teach, and help the children; the boys were to
be educated one by one, and after the first year, perhaps, she could
send for Tita, since Miss Lois never understood the child aright,
failing to comprehend her peculiar nature, and making her, poor little
thing, uncomfortable. It would be a double relief--to Miss Lois as well
as Tita. It was a pity that her grand-aunt was so hard and ill-tempered;
but probably she was old and infirm. Perhaps if she could see Tita, she
might take a fancy to the child; Tita was so small and so soft-voiced,
whereas she, Anne, was so overgrown and awkward. She gave a thought of
regret to her own deficiencies, but hardly a sigh. They were matters of
fact which she had long ago accepted. The coast fire had now faded into
a line of red dots and a dull light above them; she knelt down and
prayed, not without the sadness which a lonely young traveller might
naturally feel on the broad dark lake.

At the lower-lake port she was met by an old French priest, one of Pere
Michaux's friends, who took her to the railway station in a carriage,
bought her ticket, checked her trunk, gave her a few careful words of
instruction as to the journey, and then, business matters over, sat down
by her side and talked to her with enchanting politeness and ease until
the moment of departure. Pere Michaux had arranged this: although not of
their faith, Anne was to travel all the way to New York in the care of
the Roman Catholic Church, represented by its priests, handed from one
to the next, and met at the entrance of the great city by another, who
would cross the river for the purpose, in order that her young island
eyes might not be confused by the crowd and turmoil. At first Dr. Gaston
had talked of escorting Anne in person; but it was so long since he had
travelled anywhere, and he was so absent-minded, that it was evident
even to himself that Anne would in reality escort him. Miss Lois had the
children, and of course could not leave them.

"I would go myself if there was any necessity for it," said Pere
Michaux, "but there is not. Let me arrange it, and I promise you that
Anne shall reach her school in safety; I will have competent persons to
meet her all along the route--unless, indeed, you have friends of your
own upon whom