Anne longed for an hour of fellowship with some girl friend.

Captain Jim and Miss Cornelia were "good fellows" each, in their own way; but youth yearned to youth.
"If only Diana or Phil or Pris or Stella could drop in for a chat," she said to herself, "how delightful it would be! This is such a GHOSTLY night.

I'm sure all the ships that ever sailed out of Four Winds to their doom could be seen tonight sailing up the harbor with their drowned crews on their decks, if that shrouding fog could suddenly be drawn aside.

I feel as if it concealed innumerable mysteries--as if I were surrounded by the wraiths of old generations of Four Winds people peering at me through that gray veil.

If ever the dear dead ladies of this little house came back to revisit it they would come on just such a night as this.