The summer slipped by in a shower of golden days. Life around the Home was much quieter without Persis and the twins, but Di still managed to keep busy. July brought with it two items of happiness: another child was adopted, leaving them to become part of a family, and Rilla and Ken gave final proof that their relationship was wholly healed when Rilla announced she was expecting again!

The family was cautiously rejoicing; even though both Gilbert and Jem said there should be no complications with this pregnancy, the memory of little Aidan was still fresh in all their minds. Rilla and Ken were staying at the House of Dreams for the summer, and had decided to remain there until this baby was born, so as to be close to the Blythe doctors.

And in Avonlea, Patrick and Elizabeth's engagement was proceeding placidly. No hint of a wedding date had escaped them thus far; in fact, Di rather suspected they were more content to be engaged than they would be actually married!

Shirley was asking Di to come out for a visit, but she couldn't see her way to it, not with Persis gone. It had been one thing to visit the Glen when Rilla's life was endangered, but to simply run off from her duties there at the Home, leaving no one but Tricia to watch the children…it wouldn't be right.

And so the days passed calmly and placidly, with hardly a ripple to disturb them. With his two chief cohorts gone, Bran was spending more and more time at Di's side, "helping" her. Even though his assistance usually made more work for her, not less, she loved having him nearby, asking her questions and telling her jokes, always looking up at her for approval, his little monkey's face twisted up in an engaging grin as he would relate another one of his tales adapted from the Mabinogion. He was six now, and as bright and sharp as a new pin.

Di knew it was dreadful, but she prayed daily that no one would adopt Bran. As hard as it was for her to see any of her children leave, it would break her heart to have to let Bran go.

Patrick returned to Toronto in September, rested from his sojourn in Avonlea and planning on returning there permanently next year.

"After all," he told Di one afternoon over tea, "If I'm going to be living there once Elizabeth and I marry, it would be good to already be settled in and established."

"You humbug, Patrick," laughed Di. "You want to live in Avonlea because you hate the city, admit it!"

He grinned sheepishly. "True enough, though that doesn't make my other reasons less valid. Shirley has offered to sell me your father's old farm. The house has fallen into disrepair, but it's acceptable for an old bachelor like me, especially if I can fix it up enough for me to be comfortable now, and make improvements on it for after the wedding."

Di was surprised. She was aware that Grandfather Blythe had left the Blythe homestead to Shirley in his will, but the place had completely fallen to shambles by the time Shirley was grown up, and he had practically forgotten about it, even to the point of buying Green Gables from Uncle Davy when he decided to move to Avonlea, rather than go through all the bother of making Blythe Farm livable.

Still, that he would sell it to Patrick was a surprise. It was, after all, his inheritance, and Di had always assumed he would hold onto it until the twins had grown up and he could pass it along to one of them.

Patrick seemed to read her thoughts. "I asked him if he was sure, but he said he was. Green Gables will go to the twins, he said, and if one or both of them ever get married, he would settle enough money on them to be able to purchase a place of their own. It makes more sense, he said, to have someone living in your father's old place now than to continue to hold onto it until there was nothing that could possibly be done with it."

Di was pleased to think that Patrick would be so close to Shirley, with only the old Barry place between them. "You'll have to make friends with Jack Wright," she said. "He lives in the Barry's house. He'll make a good neighbor to you."

Patrick scrunched up his face. "Jack Wright…is he that dark, husky fellow with the gloomy face and taciturn personality?"

"That's the one."

"I'm not sure if he'll be the best neighbor," Patrick said wryly. "He already informed me that 'folks' in Avonlea don't like 'strangers' moving in and taking over."

Di rolled her eyes. "That's just Jack. He used to be more fun—not like Fred, who was always joking and teasing and willing to play with us children, but still nice. He was terribly wounded in the War, though, and ever since…" her voice trailed off.

Patrick's face relaxed. "Ah yes, the War," he said softly. "What a misery it's made of many a good man's life!" He smiled somewhat bitterly, rubbing his leg. "Don't worry, Di. I won't make things any harder for your friend. In fact, I'll do everything in my power to be a good neighbor, even if he doesn't feel the same toward me."

"I know," Di said softly. She actually thought Jack and Patrick would get along rather well; they had a great deal in common, even beyond both having been wounded in the War. Still, it was all dependent on whether or not Jack would let anyone in to be his friend.

Patrick stood up and stretched. "Well, friend o' mine, as much as I would love to stay here whiling away the rest of the afternoon, I do have responsibilities of my own. I'll just say hello to my little Polly and be on my way."

Di accompanied him to the playroom, where Polly's little face lit up as always at the sight of her favorite toy.

"Uncle Patwick!" she cried, her three-year-old lisp only adding charm to her soft voice. "Come see Bob," she continued, tugging his hand and pulling him over to where her soft grey kitty was curled up on a cushion, purring.

Di had tried to rule that Bob could only sleep in his box in the playroom, but after Polly had snuck downstairs night after night and dragged him up to bed to sleep with her, she finally relented, and no more rules were made about the cat.

He was now fat and spoiled and loved by all the children, and barely tolerated by Di. He seemed to know she disliked him, and flaunted his position every time she came near. In return, she ignored him as much as possible, swearing to herself that she would never allow another cat in the Home!

Patrick played with Polly and Bob for a little while, and then Di walked him out. He breathed in the crisp air as he stood on the front step.

"I tell you the truth, Di, that little girl is the sweetest thing I've ever seen—but don't tell Shirley; he's convinced Meggie is the most darling wee girlie ever to be born. I can't believe she's not been adopted yet!"

"It's Peter," Di answered. "Most people who want a sweet little girl don't want to have to be bothered by her stiff, silent older brother as well. I promised I would never separate them, and I intend to keep that promise, even if it means turning away ever prospective parent for the next ten years!"

Patrick smiled approvingly. "I like Peter," he said. "He has a good heart under that stuffy exterior, and it's quite obvious that he'd do anything to his sister." He paused and looked thoughtful. "Perhaps when Elizabeth and I are married…" he began, then stopped. "After all, I can't exactly ask a new bride to take in two children right away, can I?" he finished somewhat obliquely.

"No, I suppose not," Di answered.

They bid each other farewell, and Patrick strode of down the street, whistling a mournful tune to himself.

A few days after Thanksgiving, Emma showed a young lady with a tired face into Di's office. Di looked up from her papers curiously.

The young woman was dressed in a simple but exquisitely made navy blue traveling dress; her hair, what little of it was peeking out beneath her cloche, was dark and silky. Her face, though tired, was sweet and distinctive, and her hazel green eyes had an odd, hungry look of…hope, Di decided, in them.

Overall, something in the lady's carriage and manner, even before she spoke, set her apart from the run of Toronto maidens. Di sensed one who was of the race of Joseph, and then the lady spoke.

"I beg your pardon for interrupting," she said, her voice carrying an odd twist. "I was rather hoping you might be able to help me."

"I certainly hope so," Di answered. "Won't you have a seat and tell me what this is about?"

The lady hesitated, and then sat. "Thank you. My name is Leah—Lady Leah Mercer, and I'm looking for my brother."

A Lady! Di recognized the twist to her voice now—it was an English accent. Still, what was an English aristocrat doing in her Home? "I'm afraid I don't quite understand," she said.

Lady Leah Mercer laughed wearily. "No, I don't suppose you would. I'm afraid, Miss Blythe, that it is a rather long and complicated tale. Have you the time to hear it, or should I return at a more convenient time?"

"Of course not," Di said at once. "I would be delighted to hear it. But first, may I offer you something to drink or eat? You look as though you've come a long way."

"A glass of water would be sufficient, thank you," she said, pulling off her gloves. "It has been a tiring week."

Emma brought in the water and left them alone. Di was burning with curiosity, but she waited until Lady Leah was ready before asking, "Now, you said you are looking for your brother?"

"Indeed," the young woman replied. "You see, my father was the Earl of Whitmore."

An Earl's daughter! Di felt like she'd wandered into a Victorian novel somehow.

"I had two siblings, both older than myself," Lady Leah continued. "My brother, Reginald, joined the army as soon as war broke out, and my sister Dorothy worked as a V.A.D."

Her voice trembled a little, but she controlled herself and continued. "Dorothy contracted fever and died almost at once, and Reggie—Reginald was killed in action in 1917. My father was left with no heir, and as my fiancé had also been killed, it did not seem likely that I would be providing him with one at any time soon."

Di marveled at her composure as she quietly recited her tale of horrors, but couldn't help but wonder who exactly it was she was seeking, if her brother was already dead.

"I had also left them to work as a V.A.D. at this point, but a few months after Reggie's death, Mother wired me that she was expecting again. My brother, the Honorable Frederick Mercer, was born in February of 1918; my mother died giving him birth, and my father passed on as well a month later.

"Naturally, I returned at once, only to find that my brother had vanished. I learned that my father had sent him away with our old family nurse shortly before his death, but by the time I found where she had taken him, she was dead as well, and nobody knew where my brother had gone."

Lady Leah paused and took a sip of water, blinking her eyes a little. Di felt more and more that she was living in a romantic melodrama.

"Last year I finally discovered that there was a possibility Frederick had been sent to Canada; our nurse was Canadian by birth, and it seemed likely that she had sent him t her homeland when she realized she was dying. I arrived in your country last December, and have been searching every orphanage I could find ever since." She leaned forward in her chair. "Is there any possibility that my brother is or ever has been here? He would be eight by now."

Di spoke gently, fearful of raising hopes that might only end up dashed. "There is a possibility…" she wasn't exactly sure how one addressed an earl's daughter, and settled on 'my lady,' "My lady."

Lady Leah's eyes lit up with hope. "Do you mean it? Is he here?"

Di held up a cautionary hand. "We do have an eight-year-old boy here, named Freddy. He is from England originally, and came here shortly after the War ended, and that's all we know about him."

The lady was trembling. "It must be my brother…everything matches. Might I…might I see him?"

"My lady, it does seem likely that our Freddy is truly your brother, but I don't want to disappoint you if he isn't. are you sure you wish to see him now? Would you rather wait until you are more rested, better prepared for the possibility it's not him?"

Lady Leah stood up. Although she was not very tall, she gave an excellent impression of an imposing woman. "Miss Blythe, I have been searching Canada for eleven months for my brother, throughout the British Isles for seven years before that. In that time I have had my hopes raised and dashed more times than you can imagine. Believe me, I am fully prepared."

Feeling properly put in her place, Di also rose. "Very well, then, I will bring him in. If you'd care to wait in here?"

Lady Leah nodded, and Di slipped out to find Freddy. She hoped, for both his sake and Lady Leah's, that he was indeed the missing brother, but she had a difficult time imagining their Freddy as the son of an Earl—or, if Lady Leah's father was dead now, she supposed he would be the earl himself.

She found Freddy drawing in the playroom, and asked him to accompany her to her office. She deliberately did not give any details, preferring rather to wait until Lady Leah saw him to explain the situation.

He looked puzzled, but followed her willingly enough. Di led him into the office and stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders, presenting him silently to Lady Leah.

The Earl's daughter looked at him for one full minute in silence, her lips trembling. Then:

"He is the image of our mother and Dorothy," she said softly. "There can be no question. This is my brother."

Fully puzzled now, Freddy looked from her to Di inquiringly. Di smiled at him. "Freddy, dear, this lady is your older sister."

"I don't have a sister," he said promptly. "I'm an orphan."

"Yes you are," Lady Leah said softly. "But even though you have no parents does not mean you have no family at all. I am your sister, and I've come to take you home."

"I'll leave the two of you alone together," Di interjected hastily, as Freddy's eyes grew wide, and slipped out, marveling as she did so.

Their little Freddy! An English Earl! She never would have guessed at such a happy ending for his story.

Author's Note: The document editor is not working particularly well, forcing me to underline the last sentence before the breaks rather than use the usual handy-dandy little line. Oh well. Enter English aristocracy! What do you think? Let me know, whether it's good or bad!