the dormer one looked out on the lower harbor and the sand-bar and the Four Winds light.
- “‘A magic casement opening on the foam
- Of perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn,’”
quoted Anne softly. The gable window gave a view of a little harvest-hued valley through which a brook ran. Half a mile up the brook was the only house in sight—an old, rambling, gray one surrounded by huge willows through which its windows peered, like shy, seeking eyes, into the dusk. Anne wondered who lived there; they would be her nearest neighbors and she hoped they would be nice. She suddenly found herself thinking of the beautiful girl with the white geese.
“Gilbert thought she didn’t belong here,” mused Anne, “but I feel sure she does. There was something about her that made her part of the sea and the sky and the harbor. Four Winds is in her blood.”
When Anne went downstairs Gilbert was standing before the fireplace talking to a stranger. Both turned as Anne entered.
“Anne, this is Captain Boyd. Captain Boyd, my wife.”
It was the first time Gilbert had said “my wife” to anybody but Anne, and he narrowly escaped bursting with the pride of it. The old captain held out a sinewy hand to Anne; they smiled at each other and
