He stood up and looked about him at the beautiful valley of moonlight, as if to impress on his mind and heart every charm it possessed--the great dark plumes of the firs against the silvery sky, the stately White Lady, the old magic of the dancing brook, the faithful Tree Lovers, the beckoning, tricksy paths.
"I shall see it so in my dreams," he said, as he turned away.
They went back to Ingleside.

Mr.and Mrs.Meredith were there, with Gertrude Oliver, who had come from Lowbridge to say good-bye.

Everybody was quite cheerful and bright, but nobody said much about the war being soon over, as they had said when Jem went away.

They did not talk about the war at all--and they thought of nothing else.

At last they gathered around the piano and sang the grand old hymn: "Oh God, our help in ages past Our hope for years to come.
Our shelter from the stormy blast And our eternal home." "We all come back to God in these days of soul-sifting," said Gertrude to John Meredith.