"Jake Donnell has been there
shingling the roof. He is a full-fledged carpenter
now, so it seems he has had his own way in regard to
the choice of a life-work. You remember his mother
wanted him to be a college professor. I shall never
forget the day she came to the school and rated me for
failing to call him St. Clair."
"Does anyone ever call him that now?"
"Evidently not. It seems that he has completely lived
it down. Even his mother has succumbed. I always
thought that a boy with Jake's chin and mouth would get
his own way in the end. Diana writes me that Dora has
a beau. Just think of it--that child!"
"Dora is seventeen," said Gilbert. "Charlie Sloane
and I were both mad about you when you were seventeen,
Anne."
"Really, Gilbert, we must be getting on in years,"
said Anne, with a half-rueful smile, "when children who
were six when we thought ourselves grown up are old
enough now to have beaux. Dora's is Ralph
Andrews--Jane's brother. I remember him as a little,
round, fat, white-headed fellow who was always at the
foot of his class.
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