CHAPTER XIII 



Is it all lost in nothingness, 



Such gladness, love and hope, and trust ? 

 Such busy thoughts, our own to guess, 



All trampled into common dust ? ' 



ELIZABETH CHARLES. 



ONE week more, and we all started 

 back to our lovely island for the 

 summer. I rode all the way be- 

 hind Don and Dora, who were as glad as I 

 that we were going to our dearest home, and 

 had such a glorious time. The roadsides 

 were a soft bright green, all spangled over 

 with golden dandelions, and as we neared 

 the shore the ground was fairly blue with 

 the lovely great bird's-foot violets with their 

 pansy eyes. 



How swiftly the spring and summer sped 

 away! I pattered around with mamma 

 while she w T orked with the man, fixing the 

 flower-beds and vases, and with papa w r hen 

 he uncovered the lovely lily-ponds and 

 started up the fountains. When the home 



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