First and foremost, I unsuccessfully tried to edit the last chapter many, many times to no avail. Secondly, I had written out many thanks to all of my reviewers. Heaven know what happened to them. So, I'm sorry this isn't the tank you I wanted to give, but I want to at least acknowledge that I read every review, and that they mean a great deal to me. Thank you. Thirdly, I know that this is a terribly short chapter, but I felt that I left it at a good place, one of my well-known cliff-hangers. Please continue to read and review. I have come up with my long sought-after nickname for Little Anne. It will soon make it's debut, and it will be interesting. Now, I just need one for Little John. Any suggestions: )

The trees in Rainbow Valley were beginning to change their colors, and the fragrance of autumn lightly scented the breeze as Walter and Persis walked along. The soft sound of a child's voice greeted them singing,

"Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd.
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack,
I don't care if I never get back,
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
If they don't win it's a shame.
For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out,
At the old ball game."

"Who could that be?" Persis asked as the voice grew louder.

Walter was about to answer her question when the owner of the voice jumped to face them along the path.

"Hault! Who goes there?" The little boy asked, his blue eyes glistening in the sunlight that peaked its way through the trees.

"Answer or we shall have to throw you in the dungeon," a girl said from behind.

Walter motioned for Persis to go along with the children's game and held his hands up in the air. "We are but weary travelers trying to make our way to the Kingdom of Ingleside in order to pay homage to Queen Anne the first and King Gilbert. Tell me if you can, who is holding us up?

"It is I, John the Terrible, and my cousin, Anne of Four Winds. In order to pass through our territory, you must be humble and pay tribute," the boy demanded.

"We will graciously agree with you if your partner will come this way," Walter answered.

Anne walked alongside John and both children awaited their tribute. "We will pay your tribute, if you can tell me where Sir Tennyson is. I heard you singing his favorite song, and I'm sure he can't be far away."

The little boy shook his head no and held out his hand. Walter complied and gave both children a piece of hard candy. John fell out of character, which resulted in Anne doing the same. "Gee thanks, Uncle Walter. All of the big kids are on the verandah with Grandmother working on their primers."

"Yes. We were being rather loud, and Charity is asleep, so we had to come hear to play." She stopped and looked at the lady with her Uncle Walter. "Hello, I'm Anne Gertrude Ford. This isn't really John the Terrible. He's just plain old John Blythe."

"Anne!" The little boy protested.

"Well, it's true. You couldn't be terrible if you wanted to."

"It is a pleasure to meet the both of you. Actually, I've met you before, but it's been a long time," Persis told them as she got down to her knees where she could talk to the two children. "Actually Anne, I am your Aunt Persis, your daddy's little sister. I've been really anxious to see you especially, Anne.

Anne looked Persis over from head to toe, unsure if what she was saying was true. "You do look a lot like the pictures on the fireplace, but I don't know. Mummy says I mustn't talk to strangers. Uncle Walter, is she telling the truth?"

"She very much is, Anne. Would the two of you like to join us back to Ingleside? We both have more candy and gifts for everyone." The two children readily agreed, and walked behind the two adults to Ingleside.

As they left the umbrella of Rainbow Valley, the sun began to shine brighter on the heads. Hope, who was getting very tired of doing schoolwork, looked toward Rainbow Valley, wishing she were there instead. The Indian Summer sun was so bright in her little eyes that it was very hard for her to make out the people coming up the lane. She squinted her eyes a little harder and finally realized that the man walking toward Ingleside was her own dear father!

With joy she looked harder and couldn't believe who it was walking alongside him. She threw her primer down and slammed the door so loud on her way out that even Faith and Rilla who were inside came out to see what the commotion was about. Then they looked out to see where she was running and saw two adults and two children making their way into the garden. They also unmistakably heard Hope yell out, "Mama!"

Lastly to answer at least one review: I have many, many sequels planned. I also I all of "Comfort and Joy" planned out as well as a Nan story. I just want to finish this first.