yet here they were on Spofford Avenue!  A big, polished grandfather’s clock ticked loudly and solemnly in a corner.  There were delightful little cupboards over the mantelpiece, behind whose glass doors gleamed quaint bits of china.  The walls were hung with old prints and silhouettes.  In one corner the stairs went up, and at the first low turn was a long window with an inviting seat.  It was all just as Anne had known it must be.

By this time the silence had grown too dreadful, and Priscilla nudged Anne to intimate that she must speak.

“We—­we—­saw by your sign that this house is to let,” said Anne faintly, addressing the older lady, who was evidently Miss Patty Spofford.

“Oh, yes,” said Miss Patty.  “I intended to take that sign down today.”

“Then—­then we are too late,” said Anne sorrowfully.  “You’ve let it to some one else?”

“No, but we have decided not to let it at all.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” exclaimed Anne impulsively.  “I love this place so.  I did hope we could have got it.”

Then did Miss Patty lay down her knitting, take off her specs, rub them, put them on again, and for the first time look at Anne as at a human being.  The other lady followed her example so perfectly that she might as well have been a reflection in a mirror.

“You love it,” said Miss Patty with emphasis.  “Does that mean that you really love it?  Or that you merely like the looks of it?  The girls nowadays indulge in such exaggerated statements that one never can tell what they do mean.  It wasn’t so in my young days.  Then a girl did not say she loved turnips, in just the same tone as she might have said she loved her mother or her Savior.”

Anne’s conscience bore her up.

“I really do love it,” she said gently.  “I’ve loved it ever since I saw it last fall.  My two college chums and I want to keep house next year instead of boarding, so we are looking for a little place to rent; and when I saw that this house was to let I was so happy.”

“If you love it, you can have it,” said Miss Patty.  “Maria and I decided today that we would not let it after all, because we did not like any of the people who have wanted it.  We don’t have to let it.  We can afford to go to Europe even if we don’t let it.  It would help us out, but not for gold will I let my home pass into the possession of such people as have come here and looked at it.  You are different.  I believe you do love it and will be good to it.  You can have it.”

“If—­if we can afford to pay what you ask for it,” hesitated Anne.

Miss Patty named the amount required.  Anne and Priscilla looked at each other.  Priscilla shook her head.

“I’m afraid we can’t afford quite so much,” said Anne, choking back her disappointment.  “You see, we are only college girls and we are poor.”

“What were you thinking you could afford?” demanded Miss Patty, ceasing not to knit.