CHAPTER XVI

ValancyhadwalkedouttoRoaringAbel’shouseontheMistawisroadunderaskyofpurpleandamber,withaqueerexhilarationandexpectancyinherheart.Backthere,behindher,hermotherandCousinStickleswerecrying—overthemselves,notoverher.Butherethewindwasinherface,soft,dew-wet,cool,blowingalongthegrassyroads.Oh,shelovedthewind!Therobinswerewhistlingsleepilyinthefirsalongthewayandthemoistairwasfragrantwiththetangofbalsam.Bigcarswentpurringpastinthevioletdusk—thestreamofsummertouriststoMuskokahadalreadybegun—butValancydidnotenvyanyoftheiroccupants.Muskokacottagesmightbecharming,butbeyond,inthesunsetskies,amongthespiresofthefirs,herBlueCastletowered.Shebrushedtheoldyearsandhabitsandinhibitionsawayfromherlikedeadleaves.Shewouldnotbelitteredwiththem. RoaringAbel’srambling,tumble-downoldhousewassituatedaboutthreemilesfromthevillage,ontheveryedgeof“upback,”asthesparselysettled,hilly,woodedcountryaroundMistawiswascalledvernacularly.Itdidno