Further Chronicles of Avonlea

Island homestead at White Sands. It was the first time they had all been t

when she recovered, she wrote to her second brother, James Monroe, who lived on the homestead; and the consequence was this gathering of the Monroes under the old roof-tree. Ralph Monroe for once laid aside the cares of his railroads, and the deceitfulness of his millions, in Toronto and took the long-promised, long-deferred trip to the homeland. Malcolm Monroe journeyed from the far western uni

k, clever-looking son accompanied him, and Malcolm brought his, a young man with a resolute face, in which there was less of boyishness than in his father's, and the eyes of a keen, perhaps a hard bargainer. The two cousins w

en at thirty, thinking the Monroe stock the best in the world, and beamingly proud of her nephews and nieces, w

t of the family, White Sands people, in naming over the various members of the Monroe fam

y, and then did not think about him again in their laughter and conversation. Robert sat back in a corner and listened with a smile, but he never spoke. Afterwards he had slip

with it. James, aside, discussed his orchard and his crops with Margaret, who had not been long enough away from the farm to lose touch with its interests. Aunt Isabel knitted and smiled complacently on all, talking now with one, now with the other,

es Monroes, amused herself with the boys. All were enjoying themselves hugely, so it is not to be wondered at tha

n to the harbor, that Margaret and Mrs. James had gone to call on friends in Avonlea, and that Edith was w

evening," said James, indifferen

from the homestead, were brown and mellow. A weird, dreamy stillness had fallen upon the purple earth, the windless woods, the rain of the valleys, the sere meadows. Nature seemed to have folded satisfie

woods was mingled with the sturdy, unfailing green of the conebearers. He was a tall, bent man, with thin, gray ha

ll again near to him. He was proud of their success and fame. He was glad that James had

here Aunt Isabel was talking to Kathleen Bell. Presently Aunt Isabel moved nea

any of them much to begin with. Ralph had absolutely nothing and to-day he is a millionaire. Their father met with so many losses, what with his ill-

d the little teac

ailure since the time he was born. He is the first Monroe to disgrace the old stock that way. I'm sure his brothers and sisters must be dreadfully ashamed of him.

was really so much in awe of this imperious, clever old Aunt Isabel tha

a Monroe," said Aun

ailure, and that is t

ould never win power or accumulate riches, but he had not thought that mattered much. Now, through Aunt Isabel's scornful eyes, he saw himself as the world saw him-as his brothers and sisters must see him. THERE lay the sting. What the world thought of him did not matter; but tha

orch, saw that look, as he hurried past her, unseeing. A moment before her dark eyes had been

any hurt. She stood and watched him through her tears as he went away across the low-lying shore fields to hide his broken heart under his own humble roof. She yearned to hurry

driving into the yard.

olutely, "I want to

from lip to lip. Nobody appeared to notice that Robert ate little, said nothing, and sat with his form shrinking in his shabby "best" suit, his gray head bent

was almost over. Soon he would be able to escape and hide himself and his shame away from the mirthful eyes of these men and wom

ned comfortably back in her chair, with the righteous expression of one wh

rybody looked suddenly alert and expectant, except Robert.

isters, we meet to-day under our own roof-tree, surrounded by the benedictions of the past years. Perhaps invisible guests are here-the spirits of those who founded this home and whose work on earth has long been finished. It is not amiss to hope that this is so and our family circle made i

mmer, at wages which would go far towards paying my expenses at the country academy the next winter. I went to work, eager and hopeful. All summer I tried to do my faithful best for my employer. In September the blow fell. A sum of money was mis

een born at the time referred to, lifted their faces innocently.

my disgrace. But there was one person who believed in my innocence, who said to me, 'You shall not give up-you shall not behave as if you were guilty. You are innocent, and in time your innocence will be

his help, if he could get the work out of them, offered to hire me. The prospect was distasteful but, urged by the man who believed in me, I took the place and endured the hardships. Another winter of lonely work passed at the Academy. I won the Farrell Scholarship the last year it was offered, and that meant an Arts course for me. I went to Redmond College. My story was not openly known there, but something of it got abroad, enough to taint my life there also with its suspicion. But the year I graduated, Mr. Blair's nep

ered, incredulous. His face crimsoned as Mal

was fool enough to think it was all right. I told Robert what I meant to do. And Robert saw clear through the outward sham to the real, hideous thing underneath. He showed me what it meant and he gave me a preachment about a few Monroe Traditions of truth and honor. I saw what I had been about to do as he saw it-as all good men and true must see it. And I vowed then and there that I'd never go into anything that I wasn't sure was fair and square and clean through and

d was bent again, and his

with no one to wait on me. Robert came and nursed me. He was the most faithful, tender, gentle nurse ever a man h

her tears and spr

was short. She failed. She was lost in disappointment and despair, for that was the last year in which it was possible to obtain a teacher's certificate without attending Queen's Academy, and she could not afford that. Then her oldest brother came to her and told her he could spare enough money to send her to the conservatory of music

ice failed her and she sat down in te

and loving a guardian as he was to me. I have never forgotten the lessons he taught me. Whatever there is of good in my life

acher rose with wet ey

urselves. I speak for the people of White Sands. There is a man in this sett

what the trouble was. That was Robert Monroe. He found the keeper alone with a broken leg; and he sailed back and made-yes, MADE the unwilling and terrified doctor go w

old creature into his home, paid for medical attendance, and waited on her himself, when his housekeeper couldn't endure her tantrums

ere, too. Robert Monroe hired him-and helped him, and kept him straight, and got him started right-and Jack Blewitt is a hard-working, respected young man t

own, Malcolm sprang up

nd up and sing Auld

, with a great radiance on his face and in his eyes. His reproach had been taken awa

lm's stern-faced son reached

"I hope that when I'm sixty I'l

teacher, as she wiped the tears from her keen old eyes,