The young ferns were spicy in the hollow . The wild cherry trees scattered over the valley , among the dark firs , were mistily white . The robins were whistling over in the maples behind Ingleside . Beyond , on the slopes of the Glen , were blossoming orchards , sweet and mystic and wonderful , veiled in dusk . It was spring , and young things MUST be glad in spring . Everybody was glad in Rainbow Valley that evening -- until Mary Vance froze their blood with the story of Henry Warren 's ghost . Jem was not there . Jem spent his evenings now studying for his entrance examination in the Ingleside garret . Jerry was down near the pond , trouting . Walter had been reading Longfellow 's sea poems to the others and they were steeped in the beauty and mystery of the ships . Then they talked of what they would do when they were grown up -- where they would travel -- the far , fair shores they would see . Nan and Di meant to go to Europe . Walter longed for the Nile moaning past its Egyptian sands , and a glimpse of the sphinx . Faith opined rather dismally that she supposed she would have to be a missionary -- old Mrs. Taylor told her she ought to be -- and then she would at least see India or China , those mysterious lands of the Orient . Carl 's heart was set on African jungles . Una said nothing . She thought she would just like to stay at home . It was prettier here than anywhere else . It would be dreadful when they were all grown up and had to scatter over the world . The very idea made Una feel lonesome and homesick .
But the others dreamed on delightedly until Mary Vance arrived and vanished poesy and dreams XXXXX one fell swoop .
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