Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower, bearing the legend newly cut upon them: “Pray for the Soul of Anne de Tracy, 1538.” And Anne de Tracy’s memory was forgotten––so long forgotten––except for the bells that carried her name!
Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth, and Love, which is immortal!
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
U . S . A
REBECCA
of SUNNYBROOK FARM