“And the princess walked on and on,” continued Anne, as if the story had not been interrupted.  “The low briers tore her dress, the tall briers scratched her hands and pulled her hair.  It was getting da-a-rk so she could hardly see the path.  Then all at once she saw a bright light ahead of her.  It got brighter and brighter and it came from a little cabin in the woods.”

And in the happy land of ‘make believe’ Anne roamed until the tea-bell called her back to the real world.

Where, meanwhile, were Anne’s old friends, Miss Drayton and Pat?  Let me hasten to assure you that Pat was not so unmindful of his little adopted sister as he seemed.  He hated to write letters and never wrote any except the briefest of duty letters to his father and his Aunt Sarah.  He took it for granted that the separation from Anne was only for a time.  She could not come to a boys’ camp and she would have to attend a girls’ school.  Later, she would be with them—­father, Aunt Sarah, and himself.  Of course she would, always.  Mother had said she was his adopted sister.  And she was a jolly dear little thing.

Miss Drayton knew better.  She was disturbed at learning from one of Mr. Patterson’s brief, matter-of-course letters that Anne had been sent to an orphanage.  If she had known the plan beforehand, she would have had Anne sent to her.  But as the step was taken, she accepted it and Anne slipped out of her life.

Pat had a jolly summer.  Camp Riverview was on New River, where, a clear mountain stream, it begins its journey to the ocean.  The boys’ tent was pitched on a level, grassy glade with rolling hills, cleared or wooded, behind it.  Across the river rose rocky bluffs where dwarfed oaks struggled for a foothold.  There were seven boys in the camp and the wholesome young man who had them in charge was like a big brother.  There were two or three hours of daily study in which the boys were coached for their autumn examinations.  The remainder of the day was free for sport—­boating, fishing, swimming, tramps, and rides.  One good time trod on the heels of another.

The boys took walking tours through the picturesque country, following the narrow, roundabout mountain roads, or scrambling up steep paths, or making trails of their own.  They visited Mountain Lake, set like a clear, shining jewel on the mountain-top.  They climbed Bald Knob and gazed down on lovely valleys and outstretched mountains, range rising beyond range.  Time fails to describe the varied pleasures and interests of the holiday, the close of which sent Pat, brown and sturdy, to Woodlawn Academy.  There he remained until the passing days and weeks and months brought again vacation time.  In June his father would return from Panama, and after a few weeks at home Pat was to go with his Aunt Sarah to the Adirondacks.

CHAPTER XVI