“And they do say he and his wife detest each other—­which does not seem to me the proper way for married folks to get along.  But then, of course, I have had no experience along that line,” said Susan, tossing her head.  “And I am not one to blame everything on the men.  Mrs. Drew is mean enough herself.  They say that the only thing she was ever known to give away was a crock of butter made out of cream a rat had fell into.  She contributed it to a church social.  Nobody found out about the rat until afterwards.”

“Fortunately, all the people the Merediths have offended so far are Methodists,” said Miss Cornelia.  “That Jerry went to the Methodist prayer-meeting one night about a fortnight ago and sat beside old William Marsh who got up as usual and testified with fearful groans.  ’Do you feel any better now?” whispered Jerry when William sat down.  Poor Jerry meant to be sympathetic, but Mr. Marsh thought he was impertinent and is furious at him.  Of course, Jerry had no business to be in a Methodist prayer-meeting at all.  But they go where they like.”

“I hope they will not offend Mrs. Alec Davis of the Harbour Head,” said Susan.  “She is a very touchy woman, I understand, but she is very well off and pays the most of any one to the salary.  I have heard that she says the Merediths are the worst brought up children she ever saw.”

“Every word you say convinces me more and more that the Merediths belong to the race that knows Joseph,” said Mistress Anne decidedly.

“When all is said and done, they do,” admitted Miss Cornelia.  “And that balances everything.  Anyway, we’ve got them now and we must just do the best we can by them and stick up for them to the Methodists.  Well, I suppose I must be getting down harbour.  Marshall will soon be home—­he went over-harbour to-day—­and wanting his super, man-like.  I’m sorry I haven’t seen the other children.  And where’s the doctor?”

“Up at the Harbour Head.  We’ve only been home three days and in that time he has spent three hours in his own bed and eaten two meals in his own house.”

“Well, everybody who has been sick for the last six weeks has been waiting for him to come home—­and I don’t blame them.  When that over-harbour doctor married the undertaker’s daughter at Lowbridge people felt suspicious of him.  It didn’t look well.  You and the doctor must come down soon and tell us all about your trip.  I suppose you’ve had a splendid time.”

“We had,” agreed Anne.  “It was the fulfilment of years of dreams.  The old world is very lovely and very wonderful.  But we have come back very well satisfied with our own land.  Canada is the finest country in the world, Miss Cornelia.”

“Nobody ever doubted that,” said Miss Cornelia, complacently.

“And old P.E.I. is the loveliest province in it and Four Winds the loveliest spot in P.E.I.,” laughed Anne, looking adoringly out over the sunset splendour of glen and harbour and gulf.  She waved her hand at it.  “I saw nothing more beautiful than that in Europe, Miss Cornelia.  Must you go?  The children will be sorry to have missed you.”