I feel certain there are no children there, at least.

It's even neater than the old Copp place on the Tory road, and I never expected to see anything neater than that." They had not met anybody on the moist, red road that wound along the harbor shore.

But just before they came to the belt of birch which hid their home, Anne saw a girl who was driving a flock of snow-white geese along the crest of a velvety green hill on the right.

Great, scattered firs grew along it.

Between their trunks one saw glimpses of yellow harvest fields, gleams of golden sand-hills, and bits of blue sea.