said the Old Lady wistfully . `` Did I let THAT out in my raving , too ? '' `` No , but I think I know . It is because I am Leslie Gray 's daughter , is n't it ? I know that father loved you -- his brother , Uncle Willis , told me all about it . '' `` I spoiled my own life because of my wicked pride , '' said the Old Lady sadly . `` But you will love me in spite of it all , wo n't you , Sylvia ? And you will come to see me sometimes ? And write me after you go away ? '' `` I am coming to see you every day , '' said Sylvia . `` I am going to stay in Spencervale for a whole year yet , just to be near you . And next year when I go to Europe -- thanks to you , fairy godmother -- I 'll write you every day . We are going to be the best of chums , and we are going to have a most beautiful year of comradeship ! '' The Old Lady smiled contentedly . Out in the kitchen , the minister 's wife , who had brought up a dish of jelly , was talking to Mrs. Spencer about the Sewing Circle . Through the open window , where the red vines hung , came the pungent , sun-warm October air . The sunshine fell over Sylvia 's chestnut hair like a crown of glory and youth . `` I do feel so perfectly happy , '' said the Old Lady , with a long , rapturous breath . III . Each In His Own Tongue The honey-tinted autumn sunshine was falling thickly over the crimson and amber maples around old Abel Blair 's door .
There was only one outer door XXXXX old Abel 's house , and it almost always stood wide open .
Through after around because in like of over that to