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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.07.02.92*END* ANN OF GREEN GABLES Lucy Maud Montgomry Table of Contents CHAPTR I Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Surprised CHAPTR II Mathew Cuthbert Is Surprised CHAPTR III Marilla Cuthbert Is Surprised CHAPTR IV Mornng at Green Gables CHAPTR V Anne's Histry CHAPTR VI Marilla Makes Up Her Mind CHAPTR VII Ann Says Her Prayrs CHAPTR VIII Anne's Bringng-Up Is Begun CHAPTR IX Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Proprly Horifyd CHAPTR X Anne's Apolojy CHAPTR XI Anne's Impressions of Sunday Scool CHAPTR XII A Solem Vow and Promis CHAPTR XIII Th Delyts of Anticipation CHAPTR XIV Anne's Confession CHAPTR XV A Tempest in th Scool Tepot CHAPTR XVI Diana Is Invited to Te with Trajic Results CHAPTR XVII A New Intrest in Life CHAPTR XVIII Ann to th Rescu CHAPTR XIX A Concert a Catastrofe and a Confession CHAPTR XX A Good Imajnation Gon Rong CHAPTR XXI A New Departur in Flavorings CHAPTR XXII Ann is Invited Out to Te CHAPTR XXIII Ann Coms to Grief in an Afair of Onr CHAPTR XXIV Miss Stacy and Her Pupils Get Up a Concert CHAPTR XXV Mathew Insists on Pufd Sleves CHAPTR XXVI Th Story Club Is Formd CHAPTR XXVII Vanity and Vexation of Spirit CHAPTR XXVIII An Unfortunat Lily Maid CHAPTR XXIX An Epoc in Anne's Life CHAPTR XXX Th Queens Class Is Organized CHAPTR XXXI Wher th Brook and Rivr Meet CHAPTR XXXII Th Pass List Is Out CHAPTR XXXIII Th Hotel Concert CHAPTR XXXIV A Queen's Girl CHAPTR XXXV Th Wintr at Queen's CHAPTR XXXVI Th Glory and th Dream CHAPTR XXXVII Th Reapr Hos Name Is Deth CHAPTR XXXVIII Th Bend in th road Ann of Green Gables CHAPTR I Mrs. Rachel Lynde is Surprised Mrs. Rachel Lynde livd just wher th Avonlea main road dipd down into a litl holo, frinjd with aldrs and ladies' eardrops and traversd by a brook that had its sorce away bak in th woods of th old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricat, hedlong brook in its erlir corse thru those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by th time it reachd Lynde's Holo it was a quiet, wel-conductd litl stream, for not even a brook cud run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde's dor without du regard for decency and decorum; it probbly was concius that Mrs. Rachel was sitng at her windo, keepng a sharp y on everything that pasd, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything od or out of place she wud nevr rest until she had ferreted out th wys and wherefores therof. Ther ar plenty of peple in Avonlea and out of it, ho can atend closely to ther neighbor's busness by dint of neglectng ther own; but Mrs. Rachel Lynde was one of those capabl creaturs ho can manaj ther own concerns and those of othr folks into th bargn. She was a notebl houswife; her work was always don and wel don; she "ran" th Sewng Circl, helpd run th Sunday-scool, and was th strongst prop of th Church Aid Society and Foren Missions Auxiliry. Yet with al this Mrs. Rachel found abundnt time to sit for ours at her kichn windo, nitng "cotn warp" quilts--she had nitd sixteen of them, as Avonlea houskeeprs wer wont to tel in awd voices--and keepng a sharp y on th main road that crosd th holo and wound up th steep red hil beyond. Since Avonlea ocupyd a litl triangulr peninsula jutng out into th Gulf of St. Lawrence with watr on two sides of it, anybody ho went out of it or into it had to pass over that hil road and so run th unseen gauntlet of Mrs. Rachel's al-seing y. She was sitng ther one aftrnoon in erly June. Th sun was comng in at th windo warm and bryt; th orchrd on th slope belo th house was in a bridal flush of pinky- wite bloom, humd over by a myriad of bes. Tomas Lynde-- a meek litl man hom Avonlea peple cald "Rachel Lynde's husbnd"--was soing his late turnip seed on th hil field beyond th barn; and Mathew Cuthbert ot to hav been soing his on th big red brook field away over by Green Gables. Mrs. Rachel new that he ot because she had herd him tel Peter Morrison th evenng befor in Wiliam J. Blair's stor over at Carmody that he ment to so his turnip seed th next aftrnoon. Peter had askd him, of corse, for Mathew Cuthbert had nevr been nown to volunteer infrmation about anything in his hole life. And yet here was Mathew Cuthbert, at half-past thre on th aftrnoon of a busy day, placidly driving over th holo and up th hil; morover, he wor a wite colr and his best suit of clothes, wich was plan proof that he was going out of Avonlea; and he had th buggy and th sorel mare, wich betokend that he was going a considrbl distnce. Now, wher was Mathew Cuthbert going and wy was he going ther? Had it been any othr man in Avonlea, Mrs. Rachel, deftly putng this and that togethr, myt hav givn a pretty good gess as to both questions. But Mathew so rarely went from home that it must be somthing presng and unusul wich was taking him; he was th shyest man alive and hated to hav to go among stranjers or to any place wher he myt hav to talk. Mathew, dresd up with a wite colr and driving in a buggy, was somthing that didnt hapn ofn. Mrs. Rachel, pondr as she myt, cud make nothing of it and her afternoon's enjoymnt was spoild. "I'l just step over to Green Gables aftr te and find out from Marilla wher he's gon and wy," th worthy womn finaly concluded. "He dosnt jenrly go to town this time of year and he NEVR visits; if he'd run out of turnip seed he wudnt dress up and take th buggy to go for mor; he wasnt driving fast enuf to be going for a doctr. Yet somthing must hav hapnd since last nyt to start him off. I'm clean puzld, that's wat, and I wont no a minute's pece of mind or concience until I no wat has taken Mathew Cuthbert out of Avonlea today." Acordngly aftr te Mrs. Rachel set out; she had not far to go; th big, ramblng, orchrd-embowered house wher th Cuthberts livd was a scant quartr of a mile up th road from Lynde's Holo. To be sure, th long lane made it a good deal furthr. Mathew Cuthbert's fathr, as shy and silent as his son aftr him, had got as far away as he posbly cud from his felo men without actuly retreatng into th woods wen he foundd his homested. Green Gables was bilt at th furthst ej of his cleard land and ther it was to this day, barely visbl from th main road along wich al th othr Avonlea houses wer so sociably situated. Mrs. Rachel Lynde did not cal livng in such a place LIVNG at al. "It's just STAYNG, that's wat," she said as she stepd along th deep-rutd, grassy lane bordrd with wild rose bushs. "It's no wondr Mathew and Marilla ar both a litl od, livng away bak here by themselvs. Tres arnt much compny, tho dear nos if they wer ther'd be enuf of them. I'd ruther look at peple. To be sure, they seem contentd enuf; but then, I supose, they'r used to it. A body can get used to anything, even to being hangd, as th Irishman said." With this Mrs. Rachel stepd out of th lane into th bakyard of Green Gables. Very green and neat and precise was that yard, set about on one side with gret patriarcl wilos and th othr with prim Lombardies. Not a stray stik nor stone was to be seen, for Mrs. Rachel wud hav seen it if ther had been. Privatly she was of th opinion that Marilla Cuthbert swept that yard over as ofn as she swept her house. One cud hav eatn a meal off th ground without overbrimming th proverbial pek of dirt. Mrs. Rachel rapd smartly at th kichn dor and stepd in wen bidn to do so. Th kichn at Green Gables was a cheerful apartmnt--or wud hav been cheerful if it had not been so painfuly clean as to giv it somthing of th apearnce of an unused parlr. Its windos lookd east and west; thru th west one, lookng out on th bak yard, came a flod of melo June sunlyt; but th east one, wence u got a glimps of th bloom wite cherry-tres in th left orchrd and nodng, slendr birchs down in th holo by th brook, was greened over by a tangl of vines. Here sat Marilla Cuthbert, wen she sat at al, always slytly distrustful of sunshine, wich seemd to her too dancing and iresponsbl a thing for a world wich was ment to be taken seriusly; and here she sat now, nitng, and th table behind her was laid for supr. Mrs. Rachel, befor she had fairly closed th dor, had taken a mentl note of everything that was on that table. Ther wer thre plates laid, so that Marilla must be expectng som one home with Mathew to te; but th dishs wer evryday dishs and ther was only crab-apl preservs and one kind of cake, so that th expectd compny cud not be any particulr compny. Yet wat of Matthew's wite colr and th sorel mare? Mrs. Rachel was getng fairly dizzy with this unusul mystry about quiet, unmysterious Green Gables. "Good evenng, Rachel," Marilla said briskly. "This is a real fine evenng, isnt it" Wont u sit down? How ar al yr folks?" Somthing that for lak of any othr name myt be cald frendship existd and always had existd between Marilla Cuthbert and Mrs. Rachel, in spite of--or perhaps because of--ther dissimilarity. Marilla was a tal, thin womn, with angls and without curvs; her dark hair showd som gray streaks and was always twistd up in a hard litl not behind with two wire hairpins stuk agressivly thru it. She lookd like a womn of naro experience and rijid concience, wich she was; but ther was a saving somthing about her mouth wich, if it had been evr so slytly developd, myt hav been considrd indicativ of a sense of humor. "We'r al pretty wel," said Mrs. Rachel. "I was kind of afraid U wernt, tho, wen I saw Mathew startng off today. I thot maybe he was going to th doctor's." Marilla's lips twichd understandingly. She had expectd Mrs. Rachel up; she had nown that th syt of Mathew jaunting off so unacountbly wud be too much for her neighbor's curiosity. "O, no, I'm quite wel altho I had a bad hedache yestrday," she said. "Mathew went to Bryt Rivr. We'r getng a litl boy from an orfn asylum in Nova Scotia and he's comng on th train tonyt." If Marilla had said that Mathew had gon to Bryt Rivr to meet a kangroo from Australia Mrs. Rachel cud not hav been mor astonishd. She was actuly strikn dum for five secnds. It was unsupposable that Marilla was making fun of her, but Mrs. Rachel was almost forced to supose it. "Ar u in ernest, Marilla?" she demandd wen voice returnd to her. "Yes, of corse," said Marilla, as if getng boys from orfn asylums in Nova Scotia wer part of th usul spring work on any wel-regulated Avonlea farm insted of being an unherd of inovation. Mrs. Rachel felt that she had receved a severe mentl jolt. She thot in exclmation points. A boy! Marilla and Mathew Cuthbert of al peple adoptng a boy! From an orfn asylum! Wel, th world was certnly turnng upside down! She wud be surprised at nothing aftr this! Nothing! "Wat on erth put such a notion into yr hed?" she demandd disaprovingly. This had been don without here advice being askd, and must perforce be disaproved. "Wel, we'v been thinkng about it for som time--al wintr in fact," returnd Marilla. "Mrs. Alexandr Spencer was up here one day befor Crismas and she said she was going to get a litl girl from th asylum over in Hopeton in th spring. Her cusn lives ther and Mrs. Spencer has visitd here and nos al about it. So Mathew and I hav talkd it over off and on evr since. We thot we'd get a boy. Mathew is getng up in years, u no--he's sixty-- and he isnt so spry as he once was. His hart trubls him a good deal. And u no how desprat hard it's got to be to get hired help. Ther's nevr anybody to be had but those stupid, half-grown litl French boys; and as soon as u do get one broke into yr ways and taut somthing he's up and off to th lobstr canneries or th States. At first Mathew sujestd getng a Home boy. But I said `no' flat to that. `They may be al ryt--I'm not sayng they'r not--but no Londn street Arabs for me,' I said. `Giv me a nativ born at least. Ther'l be a risk, no matr ho we get. But I'l feel esir in my mind and sleep soundr at nyts if we get a born Canadian.' So in th end we decided to ask Mrs. Spencer to pik us out one wen she went over to get her litl girl. We herd last week she was going, so we sent her word by Richrd Spencer's folks at Carmody to bring us a smart, likely boy of about ten or elevn. We decided that wud be th best aje--old enuf to be of som use in doing chors ryt off and yung enuf to be traind up propr. We mean to giv him a good home and scoolng. We had a telegram from Mrs. Alexandr Spencer today--th mail-man brot it from th station-- sayng they wer comng on th five-thirty train tonyt. So Mathew went to Bryt Rivr to meet him. Mrs. Spencer wil drop him off ther. Of corse she gos on to Wite Sands station herself" Mrs. Rachel prided herself on always speakng her mind; she proceedd to speak it now, havng ajustd her mentl atitude to this amazing pece of news. "Wel, Marilla, I'l just tel u plan that I think u'r doing a myty foolish thing--a risky thing, that's wat. U dont no wat u'r getng. U'r bringng a stranje child into yr house and home and u dont no a singl thing about him nor wat his disposition is like nor wat sort of parents he had nor how he's likely to turn out. Wy, it was only last week I red in th paper how a man and his wife up west of th Iland took a boy out of an orfn asylum and he set fire to th house at nyt--set it ON PURPOS, Marilla--and nearly burnt them to a crisp in ther beds. And I no anothr case wher an adoptd boy used to suk th egs--they cudnt brek him of it. If u had askd my advice in th matr--wich u didnt do, Marilla--I'd hav said for mercy's sake not to think of such a thing, that's wat." This Job's comfrtng seemd neithr to ofend nor to alarm Marilla. She nitd stedily on. "I dont deny ther's somthing in wat u say, Rachel. I'v had som qualms myself. But Mathew was teribl set on it. I cud se that, so I gave in. It's so seldm Mathew sets his mind on anything that wen he dos I always feel it's my duty to giv in. And as for th risk, ther's risks in pretty near everything a body dos in this world. Ther's risks in people's havng children of ther own if it coms to that--they dont always turn out wel. And then Nova Scotia is ryt close to th Iland. It isnt as if we wer getng him from England or th States. He cant be much difrnt from ourselvs." "Wel, I hope it wil turn out al ryt," said Mrs. Rachel in a tone that plainly indicated her painful douts. "Only dont say I didnt warn u if he burns Green Gables down or puts strycnine in th wel--I herd of a case over in New Brunswick wher an orfn asylum child did that and th hole famly died in fearful agnis. Only, it was a girl in that instnce." "Wel, we'r not getng a girl," said Marilla, as if poisnng wels wer a purely femnn acomplishmnt and not to be dredd in th case of a boy. "I'd nevr dream of taking a girl to bring up. I wondr at Mrs. Alexandr Spencer for doing it. But ther, SHE wudnt shrink from adoptng a hole orfn asylum if she took it into her hed." Mrs. Rachel wud hav liked to stay until Mathew came home with his importd orfn. But reflectng that it wud be a good two ours at least befor his arival she concluded to go up th road to Robrt Bell's and tel th news. It wud certnly make a sensation secnd to non, and Mrs. Rachel dearly lovd to make a sensation. So she took herself away, somwat to Marilla's relief, for th latr felt her douts and fears reviving undr th influence of Mrs. Rachel's pesmism. "Wel, of al things that evr wer or wil be!" ejaculated Mrs. Rachel wen she was safely out in th lane. "It dos realy seem as if I must be dreamng. Wel, I'm sorry for that poor yung one and no mistake. Mathew and Marilla dont no anything about children and they'l expect him to be wiser and stedir that his own granfathr, if so be's he evr had a granfathr, wich is doutful. It seems uncanny to think of a child at Green Gables somhow; ther's nevr been one ther, for Mathew and Marilla wer grown up wen th new house was bilt--if they evr WER children, wich is hard to beleve wen one looks at them. I wudnt be in that orphan's shoes for anything. My, but I pity him, that's wat." So said Mrs. Rachel to th wild rose bushs out of th fulness of her hart; but if she cud hav seen th child ho was waitng patiently at th Bryt Rivr station at that very moment her pity wud hav been stil deepr and mor profound. CHAPTR II Mathew Cuthbert is surprised Mathew Cuthbert and th sorel mare jogd comfrtbly over th eit miles to Bryt Rivr. It was a pretty road, runng along between snug farmsteads, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive thru or a holo wher wild plums hung out ther filmy bloom. Th air was sweet with th breth of many apl orchrds and th medos sloped away in th distnce to horizon mists of perl and purpl; wile "Th litl birds sang as if it wer Th one day of sumr in al th year." Mathew enjoyd th drive aftr his own fashn, exept during th moments wen he met women and had to nod to them-- for in Prince Edwrd iland u ar suposed to nod to al and sundry u meet on th road wethr u no them or not. Mathew dredd al women exept Marilla and Mrs. Rachel; he had an uncomfrtbl feelng that th mysterius creaturs wer secretly lafng at him. He may hav been quite ryt in thinkng so, for he was an od-lookng persnaj, with an ungainly figr and long iron-gray hair that tuchd his stoopng sholdrs, and a ful, soft brown beard wich he had worn evr since he was twenty. In fact, he had lookd at twenty very much as he lookd at sixty, lakng a litl of th grayness. Wen he reachd Bryt Rivr ther was no syn of any train; he thot he was too erly, so he tied his horse in th yard of th smal Bryt Rivr hotel and went over to th station house. Th long platform was almost desertd; th only livng creatur in syt being a girl ho was sitng on a pile of shingls at th extreme end. Mathew, barely noting that it WAS a girl, sidled past her as quikly as posbl without lookng at her. Had he lookd he cud hardly hav faild to notice th tense rijidity and expectation of her atitude and expression. She was sitng ther waitng for somthing or sombody and, since sitng and waitng was th only thing to do just then, she sat and waitd with al her myt and main. Mathew encountrd th stationmaster lokng up th tiket ofice preparatry to going home for supr, and askd him if th five-thirty train wud soon be along. "Th five-thirty train has been in and gon half an our ago," ansrd that brisk oficial. "But ther was a pasnjr dropd off for u--a litl girl. She's sitng out ther on th shingls. I askd her to go into th ladies' waitng room, but she informd me gravely that she preferd to stay outside. `Ther was mor scope for imajnation,' she said. She's a case, I shud say." "I'm not expectng a girl," said Mathew blankly. "It's a boy I'v com for. He shud be here. Mrs. Alexandr Spencer was to bring him over from Nova Scotia for me." Th stationmaster wisld. "Gess ther's som mistake," he said. "Mrs. Spencer came off th train with that girl and gave her into my charj. Said u and yr sistr wer adoptng her from an orfn asylum and that u wud be along for her presntly. That's al I no about it--and I havnt got any mor orfns conceald hereabouts." "I dont undrstand," said Mathew helplesly, wishng that Marilla was at hand to cope with th situation. "Wel, u'd betr question th girl," said th station- mastr carelesly. "I dare say she'l be able to explain-- she's got a tong of her own, that's certn. Maybe they wer out of boys of th brand u wantd." He walkd jauntily away, being hungry, and th unfortunat Mathew was left to do that wich was harder for him than bearding a lion in its den--walk up to a girl--a stranje girl--an orfn girl--and demand of her wy she wasnt a boy. Mathew groand in spirit as he turnd about and shufld jently down th platform towards her. She had been wachng him evr since he had pasd her and she had her ys on him now. Mathew was not lookng at her and wud not hav seen wat she was realy like if he had been, but an ordnry observr wud hav seen this: A child of about elevn, garbed in a very short, very tyt, very ugly dress of yeloish-gray wincey. She wor a faded brown sailr hat and beneath th hat, extendng down her bak, wer two braids of very thik, decidedly red hair. Her face was smal, wite and thin, also much frekld; her mouth was larj and so wer her ys, wich lookd green in som lyts and moods and gray in othrs. So far, th ordnry observr; an extrordnry observr myt hav seen that th chin was very pointd and pronounced; that th big ys wer ful of spirit and vivacity; that th mouth was sweet-lipped and expressiv; that th forhed was brod and ful; in short, our disernng extrordnry observr myt hav concluded that no comnplace sol inhabitd th body of this stray womn- child of hom shy Mathew Cuthbert was so ludicrusly afraid. Mathew, howevr, was spared th ordeal of speakng first, for as soon as she concluded that he was comng to her she stood up, graspng with one thin brown hand th handl of a shabby, old-fashnd carpet-bag; th othr she held out to him. "I supose u ar Mr. Mathew Cuthbert of Green Gables?" she said in a peculirly clear, sweet voice. "I'm very glad to se u. I was beginng to be afraid u wernt comng for me and I was imajnng al th things that myt hav hapnd to prevent u. I had made up my mind that if u didnt com for me to-nyt I'd go down th trak to that big wild cherry-tre at th bend, and climb up into it to stay al nyt. I wudnt be a bit afraid, and it wud be lovly to sleep in a wild cherry-tre al wite with bloom in th moonshine, dont u think? U cud imajn u wer dwelng in marbl hals, cudnt u? And I was quite sure u wud com for me in th mornng, if u didnt to-nyt." Mathew had taken th scrawny litl hand awkwrdly in his; then and ther he decided wat to do. He cud not tel this child with th gloing ys that ther had been a mistake; he wud take her home and let Marilla do that. She cudnt be left at Bryt Rivr anyhow, no matr wat mistake had been made, so al questions and explnations myt as wel be deferd until he was safely bak at Green Gables. "I'm sorry I was late," he said shyly. "Com along. Th horse is over in th yard. Giv me yr bag." "O, I can carry it," th child respondd cheerfuly. "It isnt hevy. I'v got al my worldly goods in it, but it isnt hevy. And if it isnt carrid in just a certn way th handl puls out--so I'd betr keep it because I no th exact nak of it. It's an extremely old carpet-bag. O, I'm very glad u'v com, even if it wud hav been nice to sleep in a wild cherry-tre. We'v got to drive a long pece, havnt we? Mrs. Spencer said it was eit miles. I'm glad because I lov driving. O, it seems so wondrful that I'm going to liv with u and belong to u. I'v nevr belongd to anybody--not realy. But th asylum was th worst. I'v only been in it four months, but that was enuf. I dont supose u evr wer an orfn in an asylum, so u cant posbly undrstand wat it is like. It's worse than anything u cud imajn. Mrs. Spencer said it was wiked of me to talk like that, but I didnt mean to be wiked. It's so esy to be wiked without noing it, isnt it? They wer good, u no--th asylum peple. But ther is so litl scope for th imajnation in an asylum--only just in th othr orfns. It was pretty intrestng to imajn things about them--to imajn that perhaps th girl ho sat next to u was realy th dautr of a beltd erl, ho had been stolen away from her parents in her infncy by a cruel nurse ho died befor she cud confess. I used to lie awake at nyts and imajn things like that, because I didnt hav time in th day. I gess that's wy I'm so thin--I AM dredful thin, aint I? Ther isnt a pik on my bones. I do lov to imajn I'm nice and plump, with dimpls in my elbos." With this Matthew's companion stopd talkng, partly because she was out of breth and partly because they had reachd th buggy. Not anothr word did she say until they had left th vilaj and wer driving down a steep litl hil, th road part of wich had been cut so deeply into th soft soil, that th banks, frinjd with bloomng wild cherry-tres and slim wite birchs, wer sevrl feet abov ther heds. Th child put out her hand and broke off a branch of wild plum that brushd against th side of th buggy. "Isnt that butiful? Wat did that tre, leanng out from th bank, al wite and lacy, make u think of?" she askd. "Wel now, I duno," said Mathew. "Wy, a bride, of corse--a bride al in wite with a lovly misty veil. I'v nevr seen one, but I can imajn wat she wud look like. I dont evr expect to be a bride myself. I'm so homely nobody wil evr want to marry me-- unless it myt be a foren missionry. I supose a foren missionry mytnt be very particulr. But I do hope that som day I shal hav a wite dress. That is my hyest ideal of erthly bliss. I just lov pretty clothes. And I'v nevr had a pretty dress in my life that I can remembr--but of corse it's al th mor to look forwrd to, isnt it? And then I can imajn that I'm dresd gorjusly. This mornng wen I left th asylum I felt so ashamed because I had to wer this horid old wincey dress. Al th orfns had to wer them, u no. A merchnt in Hopeton last wintr donated thre hundred yards of wincey to th asylum. Som peple said it was because he cudnt sel it, but I'd rathr beleve that it was out of th kindness of his hart, wudnt u? Wen we got on th train I felt as if evrybody must be lookng at me and pitying me. But I just went to work and imajnd that I had on th most butiful pale blu silk dress--because wen u AR imajnng u myt as wel imajn somthing worth wile--and a big hat al flowrs and nodng plumes, and a gold wach, and kid glovs and boots. I felt cheerd up ryt away and I enjoyd my trip to th Iland with al my myt. I wasnt a bit sik comng over in th boat. Neithr was Mrs. Spencer altho she jenrly is. She said she hadnt time to get sik, wachng to se that I didnt fal overbord. She said she nevr saw th beat of me for prowlng about. But if it kept her from being sesik it's a mercy I did prowl, isnt it? And I wantd to se everything that was to be seen on that boat, because I didnt no wethr I'd evr hav anothr oprtunity. O, ther ar a lot mor cherry-tres al in bloom! This Iland is th bloomiest place. I just lov it alredy, and I'm so glad I'm going to liv here. I'v always herd that Prince Edwrd Iland was th prettiest place in th world, and I used to imajn I was livng here, but I nevr realy expectd I wud. It's delytful wen yr imajnations com tru, isnt it? But those red roads ar so funny. Wen we got into th train at Charlottetown and th red roads began to flash past I askd Mrs. Spencer wat made them red and she said she didnt no and for pity's sake not to ask her any mor questions. She said I must hav askd her a thousnd alredy. I supose I had, too, but how u going to find out about things if u dont ask questions? And wat DOS make th roads red?" "Wel now, I duno," said Mathew. "Wel, that is one of th things to find out somtime. Isnt it splendid to think of al th things ther ar to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive-- it's such an intrestng world. It wudnt be half so intrestng if we no al about everything, wud it? Ther'd be no scope for imajnation then, wud ther? But am I talkng too much? Peple ar always telng me I do. Wud u rathr I didnt talk? If u say so I'l stop. I can STOP wen I make up my mind to it, altho it's dificlt." Mathew, much to his own surprise, was enjoyng himself. Like most quiet folks he liked talkativ peple wen they wer wilng to do th talkng themselvs and did not expect him to keep up his end of it. But he had nevr expectd to enjoy th society of a litl girl. Women wer bad enuf in al concience, but litl girls wer worse. He detestd th way they had of sidling past him timidly, with sidewise glances, as if they expectd him to gobl them up at a mouthful if they venturd to say a word. That was th Avonlea typ of wel-bred litl girl. But this frekld wich was very difrnt, and altho he found it rathr dificlt for his sloer intelijnce to keep up with her brisk mentl processes he thot that he "kind of liked her chatr." So he said as shyly as usul: "O, u can talk as much as u like. I dont mind." "O, I'm so glad. I no u and I ar going to get along togethr fine. It's such a relief to talk wen one wants to and not be told that children shud be seen and not herd. I'v had that said to me a milion times if I hav once. And peple laf at me because I use big words. But if u hav big ideas u hav to use big words to express them, havnt u?" "Wel now, that seems reasnbl," said Mathew. "Mrs. Spencer said that my tong must be hung in th midl. But it isnt--it's firmly fasnd at one end. Mrs. Spencer said yr place was named Green Gables. I askd her al about it. And she said ther wer tres al around it. I was gladder than evr. I just lov tres. And ther wernt any at al about th asylum, only a few poor weeny-teeny things out in front with litl witewashd cajy things about them. They just lookd like orfns themselvs, those tres did. It used to make me want to cry to look at them. I used to say to them, `O, u POOR litl things! If u wer out in a gret big woods with othr tres al around u and litl mosses and Junebells groing over yr roots and a brook not far away and birds singng in u branchs, u cud gro, cudnt u? But u cant wher u ar. I no just exactly how u feel, litl tres.' I felt sorry to leve them behind this mornng. U do get so atachd to things like that, dont u? Is ther a brook anywher near Green Gables? I forgot to ask Mrs. Spencer that." "Wel now, yes, ther's one ryt belo th house." "Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to liv near a brook. I nevr expectd I wud, tho. Dreams dont ofn com tru, do they? Wudnt it be nice if they did? But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I cant feel exactly perfectly happy because--wel, wat color wud u cal this?" She twichd one of her long glossy braids over her thin sholdr and held it up befor Matthew's ys. Mathew was not used to deciding on th tints of ladies' tresses, but in this case ther cudnt be much dout. "It's red, aint it?" he said. Th girl let th braid drop bak with a sy that seemd to com from her very toes and to exale forth al th soros of th ajes. "Yes, it's red," she said resynedly. "Now u se wy I cant be perfectly happy. Nobody cud ho has red hair. I dont mind th othr things so much--th frekls and th green ys and my skinniness. I can imajn them away. I can imajn that I hav a butiful rose-leaf complexion and lovly starry violet ys. But I CANOT imajn that red hair away. I do my best. I think to myself, `Now my hair is a glorius blak, blak as th raven's wing.' But al th time I NO it is just plan red and it breks my hart. It wil be my lifelong soro. I red of a girl once in a novl ho had a lifelong soro but it wasnt red hair. Her hair was pure gold riplng bak from her alabastr brow. Wat is an alabastr brow? I nevr cud find out. Can u tel me?" "Wel now, I'm afraid I cant," said Mathew, ho was getng a litl dizzy. He felt as he had once felt in his rash yuth wen anothr boy had enticed him on th merry-go- round at a picnic. "Wel, watevr it was it must hav been somthing nice because she was divinely butiful. Hav u evr imajnd wat it must feel like to be divinely butiful?" "Wel now, no, I havnt," confesd Mathew ingenuously. "I hav, ofn. Wich wud u rathr be if u had th choice--divinely butiful or dazlngly clevr or angelically good?" "Wel now, I--I dont no exactly." "Neithr do I. I can nevr decide. But it dosnt make much real difrnce for it isnt likely I'l evr be eithr. It's certn I'l nevr be angelically good. Mrs. Spencer says--o, Mr. Cuthbert! O, Mr. Cuthbert!! O, Mr. Cuthbert!!!" That was not wat Mrs. Spencer had said; neithr had th child tumbld out of th buggy nor had Mathew don anything astonishng. They had simply roundd a curv in th road and found themselvs in th "Avnu." Th "Avnu," so cald by th Newbridge peple, was a strech of road four or five hundred yards long, completely archd over with huje, wide-spredng apl-tres, plantd years ago by an eccentric old farmr. Overhed was one long canopy of snowy fragrant bloom. Belo th bous th air was ful of a purpl twilyt and far ahed a glimps of paintd sunset sky shon like a gret rose windo at th end of a cathedral ile. Its buty seemd to strike th child dum. She leand bak in th buggy, her thin hands claspd befor her, her face liftd rapturusly to th wite splendr abov. Even wen they had pasd out and wer driving down th long slope to Newbridge she nevr moved or spoke. Stil with rapt face she gazed afar into th sunset west, with ys that saw visions troopng splendidly across that gloing bakground. Thru Newbridge, a buslng litl vilaj wher dogs barkd at them and smal boys hootd and curius faces peerd from th windos, they drove, stil in silence. Wen thre mor miles had dropd away behind them th child had not spoken. She cud keep silence, it was evidnt, as enrjeticly as she cud talk. "I gess u'r feelng pretty tired and hungry," Mathew venturd to say at last, acountng for her long visitation of dumbness with th only reasn he cud think of. "But we havnt very far to go now--only anothr mile." She came out of her revri with a deep sy and lookd at him with th dreamy gaze of a sol that had been wondrng afar, star-led. "O, Mr. Cuthbert," she wisprd, "that place we came thru--that wite place--wat was it?" "Wel now, u must mean th Avnu," said Mathew aftr a few moments' profound reflection. "It is a kind of pretty place." "Pretty? O, PRETTY dosnt seem th ryt word to use. Nor butiful, eithr. They dont go far enuf. O, it was wondrful--wondrful. It's th first thing I evr saw that cudnt be improved upon by imajnation. It just satisfys me here"--she put one hand on her brest--"it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a plesnt ache. Did u evr hav an ache like that, Mr. Cuthbert?" "Wel now, I just cant reclect that I evr had." "I hav it lots of time--wenevr I se anything royly butiful. But they shudnt cal that lovly place th Avnu. Ther is no meanng in a name like that. They shud cal it--let me se--th Wite Way of Delyt. Isnt that a nice imajnativ name? Wen I dont like th name of a place or a persn I always imajn a new one and always think of them so. Ther was a girl at th asylum hos name was Hepzibah Jenkins, but I always imajnd her as Rosalia Devere. Othr peple may cal that place th Avnu, but I shal always cal it th Wite Way of Delyt. Hav we realy only anothr mile to go befor we get home? I'm glad and I'm sorry. I'm sorry because this drive has been so plesnt and I'm always sorry wen plesnt things end. Somthing stil plesntr may com aftr, but u can nevr be sure. And it's so ofn th case that it isnt plesntr. That has been my experience anyhow. But I'm glad to think of getng home. U se, I'v nevr had a real home since I can remembr. It givs me that plesnt ache again just to think of comng to a realy truly home. O, isnt that pretty!" They had drivn over th crest of a hil. Belo them was a pond, lookng almost like a rivr so long and windng was it. A brij spand it midway and from ther to its loer end, wher an ambr-hued belt of sand-hils shut it in from th dark blu gulf beyond, th watr was a glory of many shiftng hues--th most spiritul shadings of crocus and rose and ethereal green, with othr elusiv tintings for wich no name has evr been found. Abov th brij th pond ran up into fringing groves of fir and maple and lay al darkly translucent in ther waverng shados. Here and ther a wild plum leand out from th bank like a wite-clad girl tip-toeing to her own reflection. From th marsh at th hed of th pond came th clear, mornfuly-sweet corus of th frogs. Ther was a litl gray house peerng around a wite apl orchrd on a slope beyond and, altho it was not yet quite dark, a lyt was shining from one of its windos. "That's Barry's pond," said Mathew. "O, I dont like that name, eithr. I shal cal it--let me se--th Lake of Shining Watrs. Yes, that is th ryt name for it. I no because of th thril. Wen I hit on a name that suits exactly it givs me a thril. Do things evr giv u a thril?" Mathew ruminated. "Wel now, yes. It always kind of givs me a thril to se them ugly wite grubs that spade up in th cucumbr beds. I hate th look of them." "O, I dont think that can be exactly th same kind of a thril. Do u think it can? Ther dosnt seem to be much conection between grubs and lakes of shining watrs, dos ther? But wy do othr peple cal it Barry's pond?" "I rekn because Mr. Barry lives up ther in that house. Orchrd Slope's th name of his place. If it wasnt for that big bush behind it u cud se Green Gables from here. But we hav to go over th brij and round by th road, so it's near half a mile furthr." "Has Mr. Barry any litl girls? Wel, not so very litl eithr--about my size." "He's got one about elevn. Her name is Diana." "O!" with a long indrawing of breth. "Wat a perfectly lovly name!" "Wel now, I duno. Ther's somthing dredful heathenish about it, seems to me. I'd ruther Jane or Mary or som sensbl name like that. But wen Diana was born ther was a scoolmastr bordng ther and they gave him th naming of her and he cald her Diana." "I wish ther had been a scoolmastr like that around wen I was born, then. O, here we ar at th brij. I'm going to shut my ys tyt. I'm always afraid going over brijs. I cant help imajnng that perhaps just as we get to th midl, they'l crumple up like a jak-nife and nip us. So I shut my ys. But I always hav to open them for al wen I think we'r getng near th midl. Because, u se, if th brij DID crumple up I'd want to SE it crumple. Wat a jolly rumbl it makes! I always like th rumbl part of it. Isnt it splendid ther ar so many things to like in this world? Ther we'r over. Now I'l look bak. Good nyt, dear Lake of Shining Watrs. I always say good nyt to th things I lov, just as I wud to peple I think they like it. That watr looks as if it was smiling at me." Wen they had drivn up th furthr hil and around a cornr Mathew said: "We'r pretty near home now. That's Green Gables over--" "O, dont tel me," she intruptd brethlesly, cachng at his partialy rased arm and shutng her ys that she myt not se his jestur. "Let me gess. I'm sure I'l gess ryt." She opend her ys and lookd about her. They wer on th crest of a hil. Th sun had set som time since, but th landscape was stil clear in th melo afterlight. To th west a dark church spire rose up against a marigold sky. Belo was a litl vally and beyond a long, jently-rising slope with snug farmsteads scatrd along it. From one to anothr th child's ys dartd, eagr and wistful. At last they lingrd on one away to th left, far bak from th road, dimly wite with blosmng tres in th twilyt of th suroundng woods. Over it, in th stainless southwest sky, a gret crystl-wite star was shining like a lamp of gidance and promis. "That's it, isnt it?" she said, pointng. Mathew slapd th reins on th sorrel's bak delytdly. "Wel now, u'v gesd it! But I rekn Mrs. Spencer described it so's u cud tel." "No, she didnt--realy she didnt. Al she said myt just as wel hav been about most of those othr places. I hadnt any real idea wat it lookd like. But just as soon as I saw it I felt it was home. O, it seems as if I must be in a dream. Do u no, my arm must be blak and blu from th elbo up, for I'v pinchd myself so many times today. Evry litl wile a horibl siknng feelng wud com over me and I'd be so afraid it was al a dream. Then I'd pinch myself to se if it was real--until sudnly I remembrd that even suposing it was only a dream I'd betr go on dreamng as long as I cud; so I stopd pinchng. But it IS real and we'r nearly home." With a sy of raptur she relapsd into silence. Mathew stird unesily. He felt glad that it wud be Marilla and not he ho wud hav to tel this waif of th world that th home she longd for was not to be hers aftr al. They drove over Lynde's Holo, wher it was alredy quite dark, but not so dark that Mrs. Rachel cud not se them from her windo vantaj, and up th hil and into th long lane of Green Gables. By th time they arived at th house Mathew was shrinkng from th aproachng revlation with an enrjy he did not undrstand. It was not of Marilla or himself he was thinkng of th trubl this mistake was probbly going to make for them, but of th child's disapointmnt. Wen he thot of that rapt lyt being quenchd in her ys he had an uncomfrtbl feelng that he was going to asist at murdrng somthing--much th same feelng that came over him wen he had to kil a lam or calf or any othr inocent litl creatur. Th yard was quite dark as they turnd into it and th poplr leavs wer ruslng silkily al round it. "Lisn to th tres talkng in ther sleep," she wisprd, as he liftd her to th ground. "Wat nice dreams they must hav!" Then, holdng tytly to th carpet-bag wich containd "al her worldly goods," she folod him into th house. CHAPTR III Marilla Cuthbert is Surprised Marilla came briskly forwrd as Mathew opend th dor. But wen her ys fel of th od litl figr in th stif, ugly dress, with th long braids of red hair and th eagr, luminus ys, she stopd short in amazemnt. "Mathew Cuthbert, ho's that?" she ejaculated. "Wher is th boy?" "Ther wasnt any boy," said Mathew rechedly. "Ther was only HER." He nodd at th child, remembrng that he had nevr even askd her name. "No boy! But ther MUST hav been a boy," insistd Marilla. "We sent word to Mrs. Spencer to bring a boy." "Wel, she didnt. She brot HER. I askd th station- mastr. And I had to bring her home. She cudnt be left ther, no matr wher th mistake had com in." "Wel, this is a pretty pece of busness!" ejaculated Marilla. During this dialog th child had remaind silent, her ys roving from one to th othr, al th anmation fading out of her face. Sudnly she seemd to grasp th ful meanng of wat had been said. Dropng her precius carpet-bag she sprang forwrd a step and claspd her hands. "U dont want me!" she cryd. "U dont want me because I'm not a boy! I myt hav expectd it. Nobody evr did want me. I myt hav nown it was al too butiful to last. I myt hav nown nobody realy did want me. O, wat shal I do? I'm going to burst into tears!" Burst into tears she did. Sitng down on a chair by th table, flingng her arms out upon it, and burying her face in them, she proceedd to cry stormily. Marilla and Mathew lookd at each othr deprecatingly across th stove. Neithr of them new wat to say or do. Finaly Marilla stepd lamely into th breach. "Wel, wel, ther's no need to cry so about it." "Yes, ther IS need!" Th child rased her hed quikly, revealng a tear-staind face and tremblng lips. "U wud cry, too, if u wer an orfn and had com to a place u thot was going to be home and found that they didnt want u because u wernt a boy. O, this is th most TRAGICAL thing that evr hapnd to me!" Somthing like a reluctnt smile, rathr rusty from long disuse, melod Marilla's grim expression. "Wel, dont cry any mor. We'r not going to turn u out- of-dors to-nyt. U'l hav to stay here until we investigate this afair. Wat's yr name?" Th child hesitated for a moment. "Wil u plese cal me Cordelia?" she said eagrly. "CAL u Cordelia? Is that yr name?" "No-o-o, it's not exactly my name, but I wud lov to be cald Cordelia. It's such a perfectly elegnt name." "I dont no wat on erth u mean. If Cordelia isnt yr name, wat is?" "Ann Shirly," reluctntly faltrd forth th ownr of that name, "but, o, plese do cal me Cordelia. It cant matr much to u wat u cal me if I'm only going to be here a litl wile, can it? And Ann is such an unromantic name." "Unromantic fiddlesticks!" said th unsympathetic Marilla. "Ann is a real good plan sensbl name. U'v no need to be ashamed of it." "O, I'm not ashamed of it," explaind Ann, "only I like Cordelia betr. I'v always imajnd that my name was Cordelia--at least, I always hav of late years. Wen I was yung I used to imajn it was Jeraldine, but I like Cordelia betr now. But if u cal me Ann plese cal me Ann speld with an E." "Wat difrnce dos it make how it's speld?" askd Marilla with anothr rusty smile as she pikd up th tepot. "O, it makes SUCH a difrnce. It LOOKS so much nicer. Wen u hear a name pronounced cant u always se it in yr mind, just as if it was printd out? I can; and A-n-n looks dredful, but A-n-n-e looks so much mor distinguishd. If u'l only cal me Ann speld with an E I shal try to recncile myself to not being cald Cordelia." "Very wel, then, Ann speld with an E, can u tel us how this mistake came to be made? We sent word to Mrs. Spencer to bring us a boy. Wer ther no boys at th asylum?" "O, yes, ther was an abundnce of them. But Mrs. Spencer said DISTINCTLY that u wantd a girl about elevn years old. And th matron said she thot I wud do. U dont no how delytd I was. I cudnt sleep al last nyt for joy. O," she add reproachfuly, turnng to Mathew, "wy didnt u tel me at th station that u didnt want me and leve me ther? If I hadnt seen th Wite Way of Delyt and th Lake of Shining Watrs it wudnt be so hard." "Wat on erth dos she mean?" demandd Marilla, staring at Mathew. "She--she's just referng to som convrsation we had on th road," said Mathew hastily. "I'm going out to put th mare in, Marilla. Hav te redy wen I com bak." "Did Mrs. Spencer bring anybody over besides u?" continud Marilla wen Mathew had gon out. "She brot Lily Jones for herself. Lily is only five years old and she is very butiful and had nut-brown hair. If I was very butiful and had nut-brown hair wud u keep me?" "No. We want a boy to help Mathew on th farm. A girl wud be of no use to us. Take off yr hat. I'l lay it and yr bag on th hal table." Ann took off her hat meekly. Mathew came bak presntly and they sat down to supr. But Ann cud not eat. In vain she nibld at th bred and butr and pekd at th crab-apl preserv out of th litl scalopd glass dish by her plate. She did not realy make any hedway at al. "U'r not eatng anything," said Marilla sharply, yng her as if it wer a serius shortcomng. Ann syd. "I cant. I'm in th depths of despair. Can u eat wen u ar in th depths of despair?" "I'v nevr been in th depths of despair, so I cant say," respondd Marilla. "Wernt u? Wel, did u evr try to IMAJN u wer in th depths of despair?" "No, I didnt." "Then I dont think u can undrstand wat it's like. It's very uncomfrtbl feelng indeed. Wen u try to eat a lump coms ryt up in yr throat and u cant swalo anything, not even if it was a choclat caraml. I had one choclat caraml once two years ago and it was simply delicius. I'v ofn dreamd since then that I had a lot of choclat caramels, but I always wake up just wen I'm going to eat them. I do hope u wont be ofendd because I cant eat. Everything is extremely nice, but stil I canot eat." "I gess she's tired," said Mathew, ho hadnt spoken since his return from th barn. "Best put her to bed, Marilla." Marilla had been wondrng wher Ann shud be put to bed. She had prepared a couch in th kichn chamber for th desired and expectd boy. But, altho it was neat and clean, it did not seem quite th thing to put a girl ther somhow. But th spare room was out of th question for such a stray waif, so ther remaind only th east gable room. Marilla lytd a candl and told Ann to folo her, wich Ann spiritlessly did, taking her hat and carpet-bag from th hal table as she pasd. Th hal was fearsomely clean; th litl gable chamber in wich she presntly found herself seemd stil cleanr. Marilla set th candl on a thre-leged, thre-cornrd table and turnd down th bedclothes. "I supose u hav a nytgown?" she questiond. Ann nodd. "Yes, I hav two. Th matron of th asylum made them for me. They'r fearfuly skimpy. Ther is nevr enuf to go around in an asylum, so things ar always skimpy--at least in a poor asylum like ours. I hate skimpy nyt-dresses. But one can dream just as wel in them as in lovly trailng ones, with frils around th nek, that's one conslation." "Wel, undress as quik as u can and go to bed. I'l com bak in a few minuts for th candl. I darent trust u to put it out yrself. U'd likely set th place on fire." Wen Marilla had gon Ann lookd around her wistfuly. Th witewashd walls wer so painfuly bare and staring that she thot they must ache over ther own bareness. Th flor was bare, too, exept for a round braidd mat in th midl such as Ann had nevr seen befor. In one cornr was th bed, a hy, old-fashnd one, with four dark, lo- turnd posts. In th othr cornr was th aforsaid thre- cornr table adornd with a fat, red velvet pin-cushn hard enuf to turn th point of th most adventurus pin. Abov it hung a litl six-by-eit mirr. Midway between table and bed was th windo, with an icy wite musln fril over it, and oposit it was th wash-stand. Th hole apartmnt was of a rijidity not to be described in words, but wich sent a shivr to th very maro of Anne's bones. With a sob she hastily discardd her garmnts, put on th skimpy nytgown and sprang into bed wher she burod face downwrd into th pilo and puld th clothes over her hed. Wen Marilla came up for th lyt varius skimpy articls of raimnt scatrd most untidily over th flor and a certn tempestuus apearnce of th bed wer th only indications of any presnce save her own. She delibratly pikd up Anne's clothes, placed them neatly on a prim yelo chair, and then, taking up th candl, went over to th bed. "Good nyt," she said, a litl awkwrdly, but not unkindly. Anne's wite face and big ys apeard over th bedclothes with a startlng sudness. "How can u cal it a GOOD nyt wen u no it must be th very worst nyt I'v evr had?" she said reproachfuly. Then she dived down into invisbility again. Marilla went sloly down to th kichn and proceedd to wash th supr dishs. Mathew was smoking--a sure syn of pertrbation of mind. He seldm smoked, for Marilla set her face against it as a filthy habit; but at certn times and seasns he felt drivn to it and them Marilla winkd at th practis, realizing that a mere man must hav som vent for his emotions. "Wel, this is a pretty ketl of fish," she said rathfuly. "This is wat coms of sendng word insted of going ourselvs. Richrd Spencer's folks hav twistd that messaj somhow. One of us wil hav to drive over and se Mrs. Spencer tomoro, that's certn. This girl wil hav to be sent bak to th asylum." "Yes, I supose so," said Mathew reluctntly. "U SUPOSE so! Dont u no it?" "Wel now, she's a real nice litl thing, Marilla. It's kind of a pity to send her bak wen she's so set on stayng here." "Mathew Cuthbert, u dont mean to say u think we ot to keep her!" Marilla's astonishmnt cud not hav been gretr if Mathew had expresd a predlection for standng on his hed. "Wel, now, no, I supose not--not exactly," stamrd Mathew, uncomfrtbly drivn into a cornr for his precise meanng. "I supose--we cud hardly be expectd to keep her." "I shud say not. Wat good wud she be to us?" "We myt be som good to her," said Mathew sudnly and unexpectdly. "Mathew Cuthbert, I beleve that child has bewichd u! I can se as plan as plan that u want to keep her." "Wel now, she's a real intrestng litl thing," persistd Mathew. "U shud hav herd her talk comng from th station." "O, she can talk fast enuf. I saw that at once. It's nothing in her favor, eithr. I dont like children ho hav so much to say. I dont want an orfn girl and if I did she isnt th styl I'd pik out. Ther's somthing I dont undrstand about her. No, she's got to be despachd strait-way bak to wher she came from." "I cud hire a French boy to help me," said Mathew, "and she'd be compny for u." "I'm not sufrng for compny," said Marilla shortly. "And I'm not going to keep her." "Wel now, it's just as u say, of corse, Marilla," said Mathew rising and putng his pipe away. "I'm going to bed." To bed went Mathew. And to bed, wen she had put her dishs away, went Marilla, frownng most reslutely. And up-stairs, in th east gable, a lonely, hart-hungry, frendless child cryd herself to sleep. CHAPTR IV Mornng at Green Gables It was brod daylyt wen Ann awoke and sat up in bed, staring confusedly at th windo thru wich a flod of cheery sunshine was porng and outside of wich somthing wite and fethry waved across glimpses of blu sky. For a moment she cud not remembr wher she was. First came a delytful thril, as somthing very plesnt; then a horibl remembrnce. This was Green Gables and they didnt want her because she wasnt a boy! But it was mornng and, yes, it was a cherry-tre in ful bloom outside of her windo. With a bound she was out of bed and across th flor. She pushd up th sash--it went up stifly and creakily, as if it hadnt been opend for a long time, wich was th case; and it stuk so tyt that nothing was needd to hold it up. Ann dropd on her nes and gazed out into th June mornng, her ys glisnng with delyt. O, wasnt it butiful? Wasnt it a lovly place? Supose she wasnt realy going to stay here! She wud imajn she was. Ther was scope for imajnation here. A huje cherry-tre grew outside, so close that its bous tapd against th house, and it was so thik-set with blosms that hardly a leaf was to be seen. On both sides of th house was a big orchrd, one of apl-tres and one of cherry-tres, also showrd over with blosms; and ther grass was al sprinkld with dandlions. In th gardn belo wer lilac-tres purpl with flowrs, and ther dizzily sweet fragrance driftd up to th windo on th mornng wind. Belo th gardn a green field lush with clover sloped down to th holo wher th brook ran and wher scors of wite birchs grew, upspringing airily out of an undrgroth sujestiv of delytful posbilitis in ferns and mosses and woodsy things jenrly. Beyond it was a hil, green and fethry with spruce and fir; ther was a gap in it wher th gray gable end of th litl house she had seen from th othr side of th Lake of Shining Watrs was visbl. Off to th left wer th big barns and beyond them, away down over green, lo-sloping fields, was a sparklng blu glimps of se. Anne's buty-lovng ys lingrd on it al, taking everything greedily in. She had lookd on so many unlovly places in her life, poor child; but this was as lovly as anything she had evr dreamd. She nelt ther, lost to everything but th lovliness around her, until she was startld by a hand on her sholdr. Marilla had com in unherd by th smal dreamr. "It's time u wer dresd," she said curtly. Marilla realy did not no how to talk to th child, and her uncomfrtbl ignrnce made her crisp and curt wen she did not mean to be. Ann stood up and drew a long breth. "O, isnt it wondrful?" she said, waving her hand comprehensivly at th good world outside. "It's a big tre," said Marilla, "and it blooms gret, but th fruit dont amount to much nevr--smal and wormy." "O, I dont mean just th tre; of corse it's lovly--yes, it's RADIANTLY lovly--it blooms as if it ment it--but I ment everything, th gardn and th orchrd and th brook and th woods, th hole big dear world. Dont u feel as if u just lovd th world on a mornng like this? And I can hear th brook lafng al th way up here. Hav u evr noticed wat cheerful things brooks ar? They'r always lafng. Even in wintr-time I'v herd them undr th ice. I'm so glad ther's a brook near Green Gables. Perhaps u think it dosnt make any difrnce to me wen u'r not going to keep me, but it dos. I shal always like to remembr that ther is a brook at Green Gables even if I nevr se it again. If ther wasnt a brook I'd be HAUNTD by th uncomfrtbl feelng that ther ot to be one. I'm not in th depths of despair this mornng. I nevr can be in th mornng. Isnt it a splendid thing that ther ar mornngs? But I feel very sad. I'v just been imajnng that it was realy me u wantd aftr al and that I was to stay here for evr and evr. It was a gret comfrt wile it lastd. But th worst of imajnng things is that th time coms wen u hav to stop and that hurts." "U'd betr get dresd and com down-stairs and nevr mind yr imajnngs," said Marilla as soon as she cud get a word in edgewise. "Brekfast is waitng. Wash yr face and comb yr hair. Leve th windo up and turn yr bedclothes bak over th foot of th bed. Be as smart as u can." Ann cud evidntly be smart so som purpos for she was down-stairs in ten minutes' time, with her clothes neatly on, her hair brushd and braidd, her face washd, and a comfrtbl conciusness pervading her sol that she had fulfild al Marilla's requiremnts. As a matr of fact, howevr, she had forgotn to turn bak th bedclothes. "I'm pretty hungry this mornng," she anounced as she slipd into th chair Marilla placed for her. "Th world dosnt seem such a howlng wildrness as it did last nyt. I'm so glad it's a sunshiny mornng. But I like rainy mornngs real wel, too. Al sorts of mornngs ar intrestng, dont u think? U dont no wat's going to hapn thru th day, and ther's so much scope for imajnation. But I'm glad it's not rainy today because it's esir to be cheerful and ber up undr afliction on a sunshiny day. I feel that I hav a good deal to ber up undr. It's al very wel to red about soros and imajn yrself livng thru them heroicly, but it's not so nice wen u realy com to hav them, is it?" "For pity's sake hold yr tong," said Marilla. "U talk entirely too much for a litl girl." Therupon Ann held her tong so obediently and thoroly that her continud silence made Marilla rathr nervus, as if in th presnce of somthing not exactly natrl. Mathew also held his tong,--but this was natrl,--so that th meal was a very silent one. As it progresd Ann became mor and mor abstractd, eatng mecanicly, with her big ys fixd unswervingly and unseingly on th sky outside th windo. This made Marilla mor nervus than evr; she had an uncomfrtbl feelng that wile this od child's body myt be ther at th table her spirit was far away in som remote airy cloudland, born aloft on th wings of imajnation. Ho wud want such a child about th place? Yet Mathew wishd to keep her, of al unacountbl things! Marilla felt that he wantd it just as much this mornng as he had th nyt befor, and that he wud go on wantng it. That was Matthew's way--take a wim into his hed and cling to it with th most amazing silent persistency--a persistency ten times mor potent and efectul in its very silence than if he had talkd it out. Wen th meal was endd Ann came out of her revri and ofrd to wash th dishs. "Can u wash dishs ryt?" askd Marilla distrustfully. "Pretty wel. I'm betr at lookng aftr children, tho. I'v had so much experience at that. It's such a pity u havnt any here for me to look aftr." "I dont feel as if I wantd any mor children to look aftr than I'v got at presnt. U'R problm enuf in al concience. Wat's to be don with u I dont no. Mathew is a most ridiculus man." "I think he's lovly," said Ann reproachfuly. "He is so very sympathetic. He didnt mind how much I talkd--he seemd to like it. I felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as evr I saw him." "U'r both queer enuf, if that's wat u mean by kindred spirits," said Marilla with a snif. "Yes, u may wash th dishs. Take plenty of hot watr, and be sure u dry them wel. I'v got enuf to atend to this mornng for I'l hav to drive over to Wite Sands in th aftrnoon and se Mrs. Spencer. U'l com with me and we'l setl wat's to be don with u. Aftr u'v finishd th dishs go up-stairs and make yr bed." Ann washd th dishs deftly enuf, as Marilla ho kept a sharp y on th process, disernd. Later on she made her bed less succesfuly, for she had nevr lernd th art of reslng with a fethr tik. But is was don somhow and smoothd down; and then Marilla, to get rid of her, told her she myt go out-of-dors and amuse herself until dinr time. Ann flew to th dor, face alyt, ys gloing. On th very threshold she stopd short, weeld about, came bak and sat down by th table, lyt and glo as effectually blotd out as if som one had clapd an extinguishr on her. "Wat's th matr now?" demandd Marilla. "I dont dare go out," said Ann, in th tone of a martr relinquishng al erthly joys. "If I cant stay here ther is no use in my lovng Green Gables. And if I go out ther and get aquaintd with al those tres and flowrs and th orchrd and th brook I'l not be able to help lovng it. It's hard enuf now, so I wont make it any harder. I want to go out so much--everything seems to be calng to me, `Ann, Ann, com out to us. Ann, Ann, we want a playmate'--but it's betr not. Ther is no use in lovng things if u hav to be torn from them, is ther? And it's so hard to keep from lovng things, isnt it? That was wy I was so glad wen I thot I was going to liv here. I thot I'd hav so many things to lov and nothing to hindr me. But that brief dream is over. I am resynd to my fate now, so I dont think I'l go out for fear I'l get unresigned again. Wat is th name of that jeranium on th windo-sil, plese?" "That's th apl-sentd jeranium." "O, I dont mean that sort of a name. I mean just a name u gave it yrself. Didnt u giv it a name? May I giv it one then? May I cal it--let me se--Bonni wud do--may I cal it Bonni wile I'm here? O, do let me!" "Goodness, I dont care. But wher on erth is th sense of naming a jeranium?" "O, I like things to hav handls even if they ar only jeraniums. It makes them seem mor like peple. How do u no but that it hurts a geranium's feelngs just to be cald a jeranium and nothing else? U wudnt like to be cald nothing but a womn al th time. Yes, I shal cal it Bonni. I named that cherry-tre outside my bedroom windo this mornng. I cald it Sno Queen because it was so wite. Of corse, it wont always be in blosm, but one can imajn that it is, cant one?" "I nevr in al my life say or herd anything to equal her," mutrd Marilla, beatng a retreat down to th celr aftr potatos. "She is kind of intrestng as Mathew says. I can feel alredy that I'm wondrng wat on erth she'l say next. She'l be castng a spel over me, too. She's cast it over Mathew. That look he gave me wen he went out said everything he said or hintd last nyt over again. I wish he was like othr men and wud talk things out. A body cud ansr bak then and argu him into reasn. But wat's to be don with a man ho just LOOKS?" Ann had relapsd into revri, with her chin in her hands and her ys on th sky, wen Marilla returnd from her celr pilgrmaj. Ther Marilla left her until th erly dinr was on th table. "I supose I can hav th mare and buggy this aftrnoon, Mathew?" said Marilla. Mathew nodd and lookd wistfuly at Ann. Marilla intrceptd th look and said grimly: "I'm going to drive over to Wite Sands and setl this thing. I'l take Ann with me and Mrs. Spencer wil probbly make aranjemnts to send her bak to Nova Scotia at once. I'l set yr te out for u and I'l be home in time to milk th cows." Stil Mathew said nothing and Marilla had a sense of havng wasted words and breth. Ther is nothing mor agravating than a man ho wont talk bak--unless it is a womn ho wont. Mathew hichd th sorel into th buggy in du time and Marilla and Ann set off. Mathew opend th yard gate for them and as they drove sloly thru, he said, to nobody in particulr as it seemd: "Litl Jerry Buote from th Creek was here this mornng, and I told him I gesd I'd hire him for th sumr." Marilla made no reply, but she hit th unlucky sorel such a vicius clip with th wip that th fat mare, unused to such treatmnt, wizd indignntly down th lane at an alarmng pace. Marilla lookd bak once as th buggy bounced along and saw that agravating Mathew leanng over th gate, lookng wistfuly aftr them. CHAPTR V Anne's Histry "Do u no," said Ann confidentialy, "I'v made up my mind to enjoy this drive. It's been my experience that u can nearly always enjoy things if u make up yr mind firmly that u wil. Of corse, u must make it up FIRMLY. I am not going to think about going bak to th asylum wile we'r havng our drive. I'm just going to think about th drive. O, look, ther's one litl erly wild rose out! Isnt it lovly? Dont u think it must be glad to be a rose? Wudnt it be nice if roses cud talk? I'm sure they cud tel us such lovly things. And isnt pink th most bewichng color in th world? I lov it, but I cant wer it. Redhedd peple cant wer pink, not even in imajnation. Did u evr no of anybody hos hair was red wen she was yung, but got to be anothr color wen she grew up?" "No, I dont no as I evr did," said Marilla mercilesly, "and I shudnt think it likely to hapn in yr case eithr." Ann syd. "Wel, that is anothr hope gon. `My life is a perfect graveyard of burid hopes.' That's a sentnce I red in a book once, and I say it over to comfrt myself wenevr I'm disapointd in anything." "I dont se wher th comfrtng coms in myself," said Marilla. "Wy, because it sounds so nice and romantic, just as if I wer a heroin in a book, u no. I am so fond of romantic things, and a graveyard ful of burid hopes is about as romantic a thing as one can imajn isnt it? I'm rathr glad I hav one. Ar we going across th Lake of Shining Watrs today?" "We'r not going over Barry's pond, if that's wat u mean by yr Lake of Shining Watrs. We'r going by th shor road." "Shor road sounds nice," said Ann dreamily. "Is it as nice as it sounds? Just wen u said `shor road' I saw it in a pictur in my mind, as quik as that! And Wite Sands is a pretty name, too; but I dont like it as wel as Avonlea. Avonlea is a lovly name. It just sounds like music. How far is it to Wite Sands?" "It's five miles; and as u'r evidntly bent on talkng u myt as wel talk to som purpos by telng me wat u no about yrself." "O, wat I NO about myself isnt realy worth telng," said Ann eagrly. "If u'l only let me tel u wat I IMAJN about myself u'l think it evr so much mor intrestng." "No, I dont want any of yr imajnngs. Just u stik to bald facts. Begin at th beginng. Wher wer u born and how old ar u?" "I was elevn last March," said Ann, resynng herself to bald facts with a litl sy. "And I was born in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia. My father's name was Waltr Shirly, and he was a teachr in th Bolingbroke Hy Scool. My mother's name was Bertha Shirly. Arnt Waltr and Bertha lovly names? I'm so glad my parents had nice names. It wud be a real disgrace to hav a fathr named--wel, say Jedediah, wudnt it?" "I gess it dosnt matr wat a person's name is as long as he behaves himself," said Marilla, feelng herself cald upon to inclcate a good and useful moral. "Wel, I dont no." Ann lookd thotful. "I red in a book once that a rose by any othr name wud smel as sweet, but I'v nevr been able to beleve it. I dont beleve a rose WUD be as nice if it was cald a thisl or a skunk cabaj. I supose my fathr cud hav been a good man even if he had been cald Jedediah; but I'm sure it wud hav been a cross. Wel, my mothr was a teachr in th Hy scool, too, but wen she marrid fathr she gave up teachng, of corse. A husbnd was enuf responsbility. Mrs. Tomas said that they wer a pair of babis and as poor as church mice. They went to liv in a weeny-teeny litl yelo house in Bolingbroke. I'v nevr seen that house, but I'v imajnd it thousnds of times. I think it must hav had honysukl over th parlr windo and lilacs in th front yard and lilis of th vally just inside th gate. Yes, and musln curtns in al th windos. Musln curtns giv a house such an air. I was born in that house. Mrs. Tomas said I was th homeliest baby she evr saw, I was so scrawny and tiny and nothing but ys, but that mothr thot I was perfectly butiful. I shud think a mothr wud be a betr juj than a poor womn ho came in to scrub, wudnt u? I'm glad she was satisfyd with me anyhow, I wud feel so sad if I thot I was a disapointmnt to her--because she didnt liv very long aftr that, u se. She died of fever wen I was just thre months old. I do wish she'd livd long enuf for me to remembr calng her mothr. I think it wud be so sweet to say `mothr,' dont u? And fathr died four days aftrwrds from fever too. That left me an orfn and folks wer at ther wits' end, so Mrs. Tomas said, wat to do with me. U se, nobody wantd me even then. It seems to be my fate. Fathr and mothr had both com from places far away and it was wel nown they hadnt any relativs livng. Finaly Mrs. Tomas said she'd take me, tho she was poor and had a drunkn husbnd. She brot me up by hand. Do u no if ther is anything in being brot up by hand that ot to make peple ho ar brot up that way betr than othr peple? Because wenevr I was nauty Mrs. Tomas wud ask me how I cud be such a bad girl wen she had brot me up by hand-- reproachful-like. "Mr. and Mrs. Tomas moved away from Bolingbroke to Marysville, and I livd with them until I was eit years old. I helpd look aftr th Tomas children--ther wer four of them yungr than me--and I can tel u they took a lot of lookng aftr. Then Mr. Tomas was kild falng undr a train and his mothr ofrd to take Mrs. Tomas and th children, but she didnt want me. Mrs. Tomas was at HER wits' end, so she said, wat to do with me. Then Mrs. Hammond from up th rivr came down and said she'd take me, seing I was handy with children, and I went up th rivr to liv with her in a litl clearng among th stumps. It was a very lonesm place. I'm sure I cud nevr hav livd ther if I hadnt had an imajnation. Mr. Hammond workd a litl sawmil up ther, and Mrs. Hammond had eit children. She had twins thre times. I like babis in modration, but twins thre times in succession is TOO MUCH. I told Mrs. Hammond so firmly, wen th last pair came. I used to get so dredfuly tired carrying them about. "I livd up rivr with Mrs. Hammond over two years, and then Mr. Hammond died and Mrs. Hammond broke up houskeepng. She divided her children among her relativs and went to th States. I had to go to th asylum at Hopeton, because nobody wud take me. They didnt want me at th asylum, eithr; they said they wer over- crowdd as it was. But they had to take me and I was ther four months until Mrs. Spencer came." Ann finishd up with anothr sy, of relief this time. Evidntly she did not like talkng about her experiences in a world that had not wantd her. "Did u evr go to scool?" demandd Marilla, turnng th sorel mare down th shor road. "Not a gret deal. I went a litl th last year I stayd with Mrs. Tomas. Wen I went up rivr we wer so far from a scool that I cudnt walk it in wintr and ther was a vacation in sumr, so I cud only go in th spring and fal. But of corse I went wile I was at th asylum. I can red pretty wel and I no evr so many peces of poetry off by hart--`Th Batl of Hohenlinden' and `Ednbrh aftr Flodden,' and `Bingen of th Rine,' and lost of th `Lady of th Lake' and most of `Th Seasons' by James Thompson. Dont u just lov poetry that givs u a crinkly feelng up and down yr bak? Ther is a pece in th Fifth Readr--`Th Downfal of Poland'--that is just ful of thrils. Of corse, I wasnt in th Fifth Readr--I was only in th Fourth--but th big girls used to lend me thers to red." "Wer those women--Mrs. Tomas and Mrs. Hammond--good to u?" askd Marilla, lookng at Ann out of th cornr of her y. "O-o-o-h," faltrd Ann. Her sensitiv litl face sudnly flushd scarlet and embarasmnt sat on her brow. "O, they MENT to be--I no they ment to be just as good and kind as posbl. And wen peple mean to be good to u, u dont mind very much wen they'r not quite--always. They had a good deal to worry them, u no. It's very tryng to hav a drunkn husbnd, u se; and it must be very tryng to hav twins thre times in succession, dont u think? But I feel sure they ment to be good to me." Marilla askd no mor questions. Ann gave herself up to a silent raptur over th shor road and Marilla gided th sorel abstractdly wile she pondrd deeply. Pity was sudnly stirng in her hart for th child. Wat a starvd, unlovd life she had had--a life of drujry and povrty and neglect; for Marilla was shrewd enuf to red between th lines of Anne's histry and divine th truth. No wondr she had been so delytd at th prospect of a real home. It was a pity she had to be sent bak. Wat if she, Marilla, shud indulj Matthew's unacountbl wim and let her stay? He was set on it; and th child seemd a nice, teachable litl thing. "She's got too much to say," thot Marilla, "but she myt be traind out of that. And ther's nothing rude or slangy in wat she dos say. She's ladylike. It's likely her peple wer nice folks." Th shor road was "woodsy and wild and lonesm." On th ryt hand, scrub firs, ther spirits quite unbroken by long years of tusl with th gulf winds, grew thikly. On th left wer th steep red sandstone clifs, so near th trak in places that a mare of less stediness than th sorel myt hav tryd th nervs of th peple behind her. Down at th base of th clifs wer heaps of surf-worn roks or litl sandy coves inlaid with pebls as with ocen jewls; beyond lay th se, shimrng and blu, and over it sord th guls, ther pinions flashng silvry in th sunlyt. "Isnt th se wondrful?" said Ann, rousng from a long, wide-yd silence. "Once, wen I livd in Marysville, Mr. Tomas hired an express wagn and took us al to spend th day at th shor ten miles away. I enjoyd evry moment of that day, even if I had to look aftr th children al th time. I livd it over in happy dreams for years. But this shor is nicer than th Marysville shor. Arnt those guls splendid? Wud u like to be a gul? I think I wud--that is, if I cudnt be a human girl. Dont u think it wud be nice to wake up at sunrise and swoop down over th watr and away out over that lovly blu al day; and then at nyt to fly bak to one's nest? O, I can just imajn myself doing it. Wat big house is that just ahed, plese?" "That's th Wite Sands Hotel. Mr. Kirke runs it, but th seasn hasnt begun yet. Ther ar heaps of Americns com ther for th sumr. They think this shor is just about ryt." "I was afraid it myt be Mrs. Spencer's place," said Ann mornfuly. "I dont want to get ther. Somhow, it wil seem like th end of everything." CHAPTR VI Marilla Makes Up Her Mind Get ther they did, howevr, in du seasn. Mrs. Spencer livd in a big yelo house at Wite Sands Cove, and she came to th dor with surprise and welcm mingld on her benevlnt face. "Dear, dear," she exclaimd, "u'r th last folks I was lookng for today, but I'm real glad to se u. U'l put yr horse in? And how ar u, Ann?" "I'm as wel as can be expectd, thank u," said Ann smilelessly. A blyt seemd to hav desendd on her. "I supose we'l stay a litl wile to rest th mare," said Marilla, "but I promisd Mathew I'd be home erly. Th fact is, Mrs. Spencer, ther's been a queer mistake somwher, and I'v com over to se wher it is. We send word, Mathew and I, for u to bring us a boy from th asylum. We told yr brothr Robrt to tel u we wantd a boy ten or elevn years old." "Marilla Cuthbert, u dont say so!" said Mrs. Spencer in distress. "Wy, Robrt sent word down by his dautr Nancy and she said u wantd a girl--didnt she Flora Jane?" apealng to her dautr ho had com out to th steps. "She certnly did, Miss Cuthbert," corobrated Flora Jane ernestly. I'm dredful sorry," said Mrs. Spencer. "It's too bad; but it certnly wasnt my falt, u se, Miss Cuthbert. I did th best I cud and I thot I was foloing yr instructions. Nancy is a teribl flyty thing. I'v ofn had to scold her wel for her heedlessness." "It was our own falt," said Marilla resynedly. "We shud hav com to u ourselvs and not left an importnt messaj to be pasd along by word of mouth in that fashn. Anyhow, th mistake has been made and th only thing to do is to set it ryt. Can we send th child bak to th asylum? I supose they'l take her bak, wont they?" "I supose so," said Mrs. Spencer thotfuly, "but I dont think it wil be necesry to send her bak. Mrs. Peter Blewett was up here yestrday, and she was sayng to me how much she wishd she'd sent by me for a litl girl to help her. Mrs. Peter has a larj famly, u no, and she finds it hard to get help. Ann wil be th very girl for u. I cal it positivly providential." Marilla did not look as if she thot Providnce had much to do with th matr. Here was an unexpectdly good chance to get this unwelcm orfn off her hands, and she did not even feel grateful for it. She new Mrs. Peter Blewett only by syt as a smal, shrewish-faced womn without an ounce of superfluus flesh on her bones. But she had herd of her. "A teribl workr and driver," Mrs. Peter was said to be; and discharjd servnt girls told fearsm tales of her tempr and stinjiness, and her famly of pert, quarelsm children. Marilla felt a qualm of concience at th thot of handng Ann over to her tendr mercis. "Wel, I'l go in and we'l talk th matr over," she said. "And if ther isnt Mrs. Peter comng up th lane this blesd minut!" exclaimd Mrs. Spencer, buslng her gests thru th hal into th parlr, wher a dedly chil struk on them as if th air had been straind so long thru dark green, closely drawn blinds that it had lost evry particl of warmth it had evr posesd. "That is real lucky, for we can setl th matr ryt away. Take th armchair, Miss Cuthbert. Ann, u sit here on th otmn and dont wigl. Let me take yr hats. Flora Jane, go out and put th ketl on. Good aftrnoon, Mrs. Blewett. We wer just sayng how fortunat it was u hapnd along. Let me introduce u two ladis. Mrs. Blewett, Miss Cuthbert. Plese excuse me for just a moment. I forgot to tel Flora Jane to take th buns out of th ovn." Mrs. Spencer wiskd away, aftr pulng up th blinds. Ann sitng mutely on th otmn, with her hands claspd tytly in her lap, stared at Mrs Blewett as one fasnated. Was she to be givn into th keepng of this sharp-faced, sharp-yd womn? She felt a lump comng up in her throat and her ys smartd painfuly. She was beginng to be afraid she cudnt keep th tears bak wen Mrs. Spencer returnd, flushd and beamng, quite capabl of taking any and evry dificlty, fysicl, mentl or spiritul, into considration and setlng it out of hand. "It seems ther's been a mistake about this litl girl, Mrs. Blewett," she said. "I was undr th impression that Mr. and Miss Cuthbert wantd a litl girl to adopt. I was certnly told so. But it seems it was a boy they wantd. So if u'r stil of th same mind u wer yestrday, I think she'l be just th thing for u." Mrs. Blewett dartd her ys over Ann from hed to foot. "How old ar u and wat's yr name?" she demandd. "Ann Shirly," faltrd th shrinkng child, not daring to make any stipulations regardng th spelng therof, "and I'm elevn years old." "Humf! U dont look as if ther was much to u. But u'r wiry. I dont no but th wiry ones ar th best aftr al. Wel, if I take u u'l hav to be a good girl, u no--good and smart and respectful. I'l expect u to ern yr keep, and no mistake about that. Yes, I supose I myt as wel take her off yr hands, Miss Cuthbert. Th baby's awful fractius, and I'm clean worn out atendng to him. If u like I can take her ryt home now." Marilla lookd at Ann and sofnd at syt of th child's pale face with its look of mute misry--th misry of a helpless litl creatur ho finds itself once mor caut in th trap from wich it had escaped. Marilla felt an uncomfrtbl conviction that, if she denyd th apeal of that look, it wud haunt her to her dyng day. Mor- over, she did not fancy Mrs. Blewett. To hand a sensitiv, "highstrung" child over to such a womn! No, she cud not take th responsbility of doing that! "Wel, I dont no," she said sloly. "I didnt say that Mathew and I had abslutely decided that we wudnt keep her. In fact I may say that Mathew is disposed to keep her. I just came over to find out how th mistake had ocurd. I think I'd betr take her home again and talk it over with Mathew. I feel that I otnt to decide on anything without consultng him. If we make up our mind not to keep her we'l bring or send her over to u tomoro nyt. If we dont u may no that she is going to stay with us. Wil that suit u, Mrs. Blewett?" "I supose it'l hav to," said Mrs. Blewett ungraciously. During Marilla's speech a sunrise had been dawnng on Anne's face. First th look of despair faded out; then came a faint flush of hope; here ys grew deep and bryt as mornng stars. Th child was quite transfigrd; and, a moment later, wen Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Blewett went out in quest of a recipe th latr had com to boro she sprang up and flew across th room to Marilla. "O, Miss Cuthbert, did u realy say that perhaps u wud let me stay at Green Gables?" she said, in a brethless wispr, as if speakng aloud myt shatr th glorius posbility. "Did u realy say it? Or did I only imajn that u did?" "I think u'd betr lern to control that imajnation of yrs, Ann, if u cant distinguish between wat is real and wat isnt," said Marilla crosly. "Yes, u did hear me say just that and no mor. It isnt decided yet and perhaps we wil conclude to let Mrs. Blewett take u aftr al. She certnly needs u much mor than I do." "I'd rathr go bak to th asylum than go to liv with her," said Ann passionatly. "She looks exactly like a--like a gimlet." Marilla smothrd a smile undr th conviction that Ann must be reproved for such a speech. "A litl girl like u shud be ashamed of talkng so about a lady and a stranjer," she said severely. "Go bak and sit down quietly and hold yr tong and behave as a good girl shud." "I'l try to do and be anything u want me, if u'l only keep me," said Ann, returng meekly to her otmn. Wen they arived bak at Green Gables that evenng Mathew met them in th lane. Marilla from afar had noted him prowlng along it and gesd his motiv. She was prepared for th relief she red in his face wen he saw that she had at least brot bak Ann bak with her. But she said nothing, to him, relativ to th afair, until they wer both out in th yard behind th barn milkng th cows. Then she briefly told him Anne's histry and th result of th intrvew with Mrs. Spencer. "I wudnt giv a dog I liked to that Blewett womn," said Mathew with unusul vim." "I dont fancy her styl myself," admitd Marilla, "but it's that or keepng her ourselvs, Mathew. And since u seem to want her, I supose I'm wilng--or hav to be. I'v been thinkng over th idea until I'v got kind of used to it. It seems a sort of duty. I'v nevr brot up a child, especialy a girl, and I dare say I'l make a teribl mess of it. But I'l do my best. So far as I'm concernd, Mathew, she may stay." Matthew's shy face was a glo of delyt. "Wel now, I reknd u'd com to se it in that lyt, Marilla," he said. "She's such an intrestng litl thing." "It'd be mor to th point if u cud say she was a useful litl thing," retortd Marilla, "but I'l make it my busness to se she's traind to be that. And mind, Mathew, u'r not to go intrfering with my methods. Perhaps an old maid dosnt no much about bringng up a child, but I gess she nos mor than an old bachlr. So u just leve me to manaj her. Wen I fail it'l be time enuf to put yr or in." "Ther, ther, Marilla, u can hav yr own way," said Mathew reasuringly. "Only be as good and kind to her as u can without spoilng her. I kind of think she's one of th sort u can do anything with if u only get her to lov u." Marilla snifd, to express her contemt for Matthew's opinions concernng anything femnn, and walkd off to th dairy with th pails. "I wont tel her tonyt that she can stay," she reflectd, as she straind th milk into th creamers. "She'd be so exited that she wudnt sleep a wink. Marilla Cuthbert, u'r fairly in for it. Did u evr supose u'd se th day wen u'd be adoptng an orfn girl? It's surprising enuf; but not so surprising as that Mathew shud be at th botm of it, him that always seemd to hav such a mortl dred of litl girls. Anyhow, we'v decided on th experimnt and goodness only nos wat wil com of it." CHAPTR VII Ann Says Her Prayrs Wen Marilla took Ann up to bed that nyt she said stifly: "Now, Ann, I noticed last nyt that u threw yr clothes al about th flor wen u took them off. That is a very untidy habit, and I cant alow it at al. As soon as u take off any articl of clothing fold it neatly and place it on th chair. I havnt any use at al for litl girls ho arnt neat." "I was so harod up in my mind last nyt that I didnt think about my clothes at al," said Ann. "I'l fold them nicely tonyt. They always made us do that at th asylum. Half th time, tho, I'd forget, I'd be in such a hurry to get into bed nice and quiet and imajn things." "U'l hav to remembr a litl betr if u stay here," admonishd Marilla. "Ther, that looks somthing like. Say yr prayrs now and get into bed." "I nevr say any prayrs," anounced Ann. Marilla lookd horifyd astonishmnt. "Wy, Ann, wat do u mean? Wer u nevr taut to say yr prayrs? God always wants litl girls to say ther prayrs. Dont u no ho God is, Ann?" "`God is a spirit, infnit, eternl and unchangeable, in His being, wisdm, powr, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth,'" respondd Ann promtly and glibly. Marilla lookd rathr releved. "So u do no somthing then, thank goodness! U'r not quite a heathn. Wher did u lern that?" "O, at th asylum Sunday-scool. They made us lern th hole catechism. I liked it pretty wel. Ther's somthing splendid about som of th words. `Infnit, eternl and unchangeable.' Isnt that grand? It has such a rol to it--just like a big orgn playng. U cudnt quite cal it poetry, I supose, but it sounds a lot like it, dosnt it?" "We'r not talkng about poetry, Ann--we ar talkng about sayng yr prayrs. Dont u no it's a teribl wiked thing not to say yr prayrs evry nyt? I'm afraid u ar a very bad litl girl." "U'd find it esir to be bad than good if u had red hair," said Ann reproachfuly. "Peple ho havnt red hair dont no wat trubl is. Mrs. Tomas told me that God made my hair red ON PURPOS, and I'v nevr cared about Him since. And anyhow I'd always be too tired at nyt to bothr sayng prayrs. Peple ho hav to look aftr twins cant be expectd to say ther prayrs. Now, do u onestly think they can?" Marilla decided that Anne's relijus trainng must be begun at once. Plainly ther was no time to be lost. "U must say yr prayrs wile u ar undr my roof, Ann." "Wy, of corse, if u want me to," asentd Ann cheerfuly. "I'd do anything to oblije u. But u'l hav to tel me wat to say for this once. Aftr I get into bed I'l imajn out a real nice prayr to say always. I beleve that it wil be quite intrestng, now that I com to think of it." "U must neel down," said Marilla in embarasmnt. Ann nelt at Marilla's ne and lookd up gravely. "Wy must peple neel down to pray?" If I realy wantd to pray I'l tel u wat I'd do. I'd go out into a gret big field al alone or into th deep, deep, woods, and I'd look up into th sky--up--up--up--into that lovly blu sky that looks as if ther was no end to its bluness. And then I'd just FEEL a prayr. Wel, I'm redy. Wat am I to say?" Marilla felt mor embarasd than evr. She had intendd to teach Ann th childish classic, "Now I lay me down to sleep." But she had, as I hav told u, th glimmerings of a sense of humor--wich is simply anothr name for a sense of fitness of things; and it sudnly ocurd to her that that simpl litl prayr, sacred to wite-robed childhood lisping at mothrly nes, was entirely unsuitd to this frekld wich of a girl ho new and cared nothing bout God's lov, since she had nevr had it translated to her thru th medium of human lov. "U'r old enuf to pray for yrself, Ann," she said finaly. "Just thank God for yr blesngs and ask Him humbly for th things u want." "Wel, I'l do my best," promisd Ann, burying her face in Marilla's lap. "Gracius hevnly Fathr--that's th way th ministrs say it in church, so I supose it's al ryt in privat prayr, isnt it?" she intrjectd, liftng her hed for a moment. "Gracius hevnly Fathr, I thank Thee for th Wite Way of Delyt and th Lake of Shining Watrs and Bonni and th Sno Queen. I'm realy extremely grateful for them. And that's al th blesngs I can think of just now to thank Thee for. As for th things I want, they'r so numerus that it wud take a gret deal of time to name them al so I wil only mention th two most importnt. Plese let me stay at Green Gables; and plese let me be good-lookng wen I gro up. I remain, "Yrs respectfuly, Ann Shirly. "Ther, did I do al ryt?" she askd eagrly, getng up. "I cud hav made it much mor flowry if I'd had a litl mor time to think it over." Poor Marilla was only preservd from complete colaps by remembrng that it was not irevrnce, but simply spiritul ignrnce on th part of Ann that was responsbl for this extrordnry petition. She tukd th child up in bed, mently vowng that she shud be taut a prayr th very next day, and was leving th room with th lyt wen Ann cald her bak. "I'v just thot of it now. I shud hav said, `Amen' in place of `yrs respectfuly,' shudnt I?--th way th ministrs do. I'd forgotn it, but I felt a prayr shud be finishd off in som way, so I put in th othr. Do u supose it wil make any difrnce?" "I--I dont supose it wil," said Marilla. "Go to sleep now like a good child. Good nyt." "I can only say good nyt tonyt with a clear concience," said Ann, cudlng luxuriusly down among her pilos. Marilla retreatd to th kichn, set th candl firmly on th table, and glared at Mathew. "Mathew Cuthbert, it's about time sombody adoptd that child and taut her somthing. She's next dor to a perfect heathn. Wil u beleve that she nevr said a prayr in her life til tonyt? I'l send her to th manse tomoro and boro th Peep of th Day series, that's wat I'l do. And she shal go to Sunday-scool just as soon as I can get som suitbl clothes made for her. I forse that I shal hav my hands ful. Wel, wel, we cant get thru this world without our share of trubl. I'v had a pretty esy life of it so far, but my time has com at last and I supose I'l just hav to make th best of it." CHAPTR VIII Anne's Bringng-up Is Begun For reasns best nown to herself, Marilla did not tel Ann that she was to stay at Green Gables until th next aftrnoon. During th forenoon she kept th child busy with varius tasks and wachd over her with a keen y wile she did them. By noon she had concluded that Ann was smart and obedient, wilng to work and quik to lern; her most serius shortcomng seemd to be a tendncy to fal into daydreams in th midl of a task and forget al about it until such time as she was sharply recald to erth by a reprmand or a catastrofe. Wen Ann had finishd washng th dinr dishs she sudnly confrontd Marilla with th air and expression of one despratly determnd to lern th worst. Her thin litl body trembld from hed to foot; her face flushd and her ys dilated until they wer almost blak; she claspd her hands tytly and said in an implorng voice: "O, plese, Miss Cuthbert, wont u tel me if u ar going to send me away or not?" I'v tryd to be patient al th mornng, but I realy feel that I canot ber not noing any longr. It's a dredful feelng. Plese tel me." "U havnt scaldd th dishcloth in clean hot watr as I told u to do," said Marilla immovably. "Just go and do it befor u ask any mor questions, Ann." Ann went and atendd to th dishcloth. Then she returnd to Marilla and fasnd implorng ys of th latter's face. "Wel," said Marilla, unable to find any excuse for deferng her explnation longr, "I supose I myt as wel tel u. Mathew and I hav decided to keep u--that is, if u wil try to be a good litl girl and sho yrself grateful. Wy, child, watevr is th matr?" "I'm cryng," said Ann in a tone of bewildrmnt. "I cant think wy. I'm glad as glad can be. O, GLAD dosnt seem th ryt word at al. I was glad about th Wite Way and th cherry blosms--but this! O, it's somthing mor than glad. I'm so happy. I'l try to be so good. It wil be uphil work, I expect, for Mrs. Tomas ofn told me I was despratly wiked. Howevr, I'l do my very best. But can u tel me wy I'm cryng?" "I supose it's because u'r al exited and workd up," said Marilla disaprovingly. "Sit down on that chair and try to calm yrself. I'm afraid u both cry and laf far too esily. Yes, u can stay here and we wil try to do ryt by u. U must go to scool; but it's only a fortnyt til vacation so it isnt worth wile for u to start befor it opens again in Septembr." "Wat am I to cal u?" askd Ann. "Shal I always say Miss Cuthbert? Can I cal u Ant Marilla?" "No; u'l cal me just plan Marilla. I'm not used to being cald Miss Cuthbert and it wud make me nervus." "It sounds awfuly disrespectful to just say Marilla," protestd Ann. "I gess ther'l be nothing disrespectful in it if u'r careful to speak respectfuly. Evrybody, yung and old, in Avonlea cals me Marilla exept th ministr. He says Miss Cuthbert--wen he thinks of it." "I'd lov to cal u Ant Marilla," said Ann wistfuly. "I'v nevr had an ant or any relation at al--not even a granmothr. It wud make me feel as if I realy belongd to u. Cant I cal u Ant Marilla?" "No. I'm not yr ant and I dont beleve in calng peple names that dont belong to them." "But we cud imajn u wer my ant." "I cudnt," said Marilla grimly. "Do u nevr imajn things difrnt from wat they realy ar?" askd Ann wide-yd. "No." "O!" Ann drew a long breth. "O, Miss--Marilla, how much u miss!" "I dont beleve in imajnng things difrnt from wat they realy ar," retortd Marilla. "Wen th Lord puts us in certn circmstnces He dosnt mean for us to imajn them away. And that reminds me. Go into th sitng room, Ann--be sure yr feet ar clean and dont let any flys in--and bring me out th ilustrated card that's on th mantlpece. Th Lord's Prayr is on it and u'l devote yr spare time this aftrnoon to lernng it off by hart. Ther's to be no mor of such prayng as I herd last nyt." "I supose I was very awkwrd," said Ann apolojeticly, "but then, u se, I'd nevr had any practis. U cudnt realy expect a persn to pray very wel th first time she tryd, cud u? I thot out a splendid prayr aftr I went to bed, just as I promisd u I wud. It was nearly as long as a minister's and so poeticl. But wud u beleve it? I cudnt remembr one word wen I woke up this mornng. And I'm afraid I'l nevr be able to think out anothr one as good. Somhow, things nevr ar so good wen they'r thot out a secnd time. Hav u evr noticed that?" "Here is somthing for u to notice, Ann. Wen I tel u to do a thing I want u to obey me at once and not stand stok-stil and discorse about it. Just u go and do as I bid u." Ann promtly departd for th sitng-room across th hal; she faild to return; aftr waitng ten minuts Marilla laid down her nitng and marchd aftr her with a grim expression. She found Ann standng motionless befor a pictur hangng on th wal between th two windos, with her ys astar with dreams. Th wite and green lyt straind thru apl tres and clustrng vines outside fel over th rapt litl figr with a half-unerthly radiance. "Ann, watevr ar u thinkng of?" demandd Marilla sharply. Ann came bak to erth with a start. "That," she said, pointng to th pictur--a rathr vivid chromo entitled, "Crist Blesng Litl Children"--"and I was just imajnng I was one of them--that I was th litl girl in th blu dress, standng off by herself in th cornr as if she didnt belong to anybody, like me. She looks lonely and sad, dont u think? I gess she hadnt any fathr or mothr of her own. But she wantd to be blesd, too, so she just crept shyly up on th outside of th crowd, hoping nobody wud notice her--exept Him. I'm sure I no just how she felt. Her hart must hav beat and her hands must hav got cold, like mine did wen I askd u if I cud stay. She was afraid He mytnt notice her. But it's likely He did, dont u think? I'v been tryng to imajn it al out--her ejng a litl nearr al th time until she was quite close to Him; and then He wud look at her and put His hand on her hair and o, such a thril of joy as wud run over her! But I wish th artist hadnt paintd Him so soroful lookng. Al His picturs ar like that, if u'v noticed. But I dont beleve He cud realy hav lookd so sad or th children wud hav been afraid of Him." "Ann," said Marilla, wondrng wy she had not broken into this speech long befor, "u shudnt talk that way. It's irevrnt--positivly irevrnt." Anne's ys marvld. "Wy, I felt just as revrnt as cud be. I'm sure I didnt mean to be irevrnt." "Wel I dont supose u did--but it dosnt sound ryt to talk so familirly about such things. And anothr thing, Ann, wen I send u aftr somthing u'r to bring it at once and not fal into moonng and imajnng befor picturs. Remembr that. Take that card and com ryt to th kichn. Now, sit down in th cornr and lern that prayr off by hart." Ann set th card up against th jugful of apl blosms she had brot in to decrate th dinnertable--Marilla had yd that decration askance, but had said nothing-- propd her chin on her hands, and fel to studying it intently for sevrl silent minuts. "I like this," she anounced at length. "It's butiful. I'v herd it befor--I herd th superintendnt of th asylum Sunday scool say it over once. But I didnt like it then. He had such a crakd voice and he prayd it so mornfuly. I realy felt sure he thot prayng was a disagreeabl duty. This isnt poetry, but it makes me feel just th same way poetry dos. `Our Fathr ho art in hevn hallod be Thy name.' That is just like a line of music. O, I'm so glad u thot of making me lern this, Miss-- Marilla." "Wel, lern it and hold yr tong," said Marilla shortly. Ann tipd th vase of apl blosms near enuf to besto a soft kiss on a pink-cupd but, and then studid dilijntly for som moments longr. "Marilla," she demandd presntly, "do u think that I shal evr hav a bosm frend in Avonlea?" "A--a wat kind of frend?" "A bosm frend--an intmat frend, u no--a realy kindred spirit to hom I can confide my inmost sol. I'v dreamd of meetng her al my life. I nevr realy suposed I wud, but so many of my lovliest dreams hav com tru al at once that perhaps this one wil, too. Do u think it's posbl?" "Diana Barry lives over at Orchrd Slope and she's about yr aje. She's a very nice litl girl, and perhaps she wil be a playmate for u wen she coms home. She's visitng her ant over at Carmody just now. U'l hav to be careful how u behave yrself, tho. Mrs. Barry is a very particulr womn. She wont let Diana play with any litl girl ho isnt nice and good." Ann lookd at Marilla thru th apl blosms, her ys aglo with intrest. "Wat is Diana like? Her hair isnt red, is it? O, I hope not. It's bad enuf to hav red hair myself, but I positivly cudnt endure it in a bosm frend." "Diana is a very pretty litl girl. She has blak ys and hair and rosy cheeks. And she is good and smart, wich is betr than being pretty." Marilla was as fond of morals as th Duchess in Wondrland, and was firmly convinced that one shud be takd on to evry remark made to a child ho was being brot up. But Ann waved th moral inconsequently aside and sezed only on th delytful posbilitis befor it. "O, I'm so glad she's pretty. Next to being butiful oneself--and that's imposbl in my case--it wud be best to hav a butiful bosm frend. Wen I livd with Mrs. Tomas she had a bookcase in her sitng room with glass dors. Ther wernt any books in it; Mrs. Tomas kept her best china and her preservs ther--wen she had any preservs to keep. One of th dors was broken. Mr. Tomas smashd it one nyt wen he was slytly intoxicated. But th othr was hole and I used to pretend that my reflection in it was anothr litl girl ho livd in it. I cald her Kati Maurice, and we wer very intmat. I used to talk to her by th our, especialy on Sunday, and tel her everything. Kati was th comfrt and conslation of my life. We used to pretend that th bookcase was enchantd and that if I only new th spel I cud open th dor and step ryt into th room wher Kati Maurice livd, insted of into Mrs. Thomas' shelvs of preservs and china. And then Kati Maurice wud hav taken me by th hand and led me out into a wondrful place, al flowrs and sunshine and fairis, and we wud hav livd ther happy for evr aftr. Wen I went to liv with Mrs. Hammond it just broke my hart to leve Kati Maurice. She felt it dredfuly, too, I no she did, for she was cryng wen she kisd me good-by thru th bookcase dor. Ther was no bookcase at Mrs. Hammond's. But just up th rivr a litl way from th house ther was a long green litl vally, and th lovliest eco livd ther. It ecod bak evry word u said, even if u didnt talk a bit loud. So I imajnd that it was a litl girl cald Violetta and we wer gret frends and I lovd her almost as wel as I lovd Kati Maurice--not quite, but almost, u no. Th nyt befor I went to th asylum I said good-by to Violetta, and o, her good-by came bak to me in such sad, sad tones. I had becom so atachd to her that I hadnt th hart to imajn a bosm frend at th asylum, even if ther had been any scope for imajnation ther." "I think it's just as wel ther wasnt," said Marilla dryly. "I dont aprove of such goings-on. U seem to half beleve yr own imajnations. It wil be wel for u to hav a real liv frend to put such nonsnse out of yr hed. But dont let Mrs. Barry hear u talkng about yr Kati Maurices and yr Violettas or she'l think u tel storis." "O, I wont. I cudnt talk of them to evrybody--ther memris ar too sacred for that. But I thot I'd like to hav u no about them. O, look, here's a big be just tumbld out of an apl blosm. Just think wat a lovly place to liv--in an apl blosm! Fancy going to sleep in it wen th wind was rokng it. If I wasnt a human girl I think I'd like to be a be and liv among th flowrs." "Yestrday u wantd to be a se gul," snifd Marilla. "I think u ar very fikl mindd. I told u to lern that prayr and not talk. But it seems imposbl for u to stop talkng if u'v got anybody that wil lisn to u. So go up to yr room and lern it." "O, I no it pretty nearly al now--al but just th last line." "Wel, nevr mind, do as I tel u. Go to yr room and finish lernng it wel, and stay ther until I cal u down to help me get te." "Can I take th apl blosms with me for compny?" pleadd Ann. "No; u dont want yr room clutrd up with flowrs. U shud hav left them on th tre in th first place." "I did feel a litl that way, too," said Ann. "I kind of felt I shudnt shortn ther lovly lives by pikng them--I wudnt want to be pikd if I wer an apl blosm. But th temtation was IRESISTBL. Wat do u do wen u meet with an iresistbl temtation?" "Ann, did u hear me tel u to go to yr room?" Ann syd, retreatd to th east gable, and sat down in a chair by th windo. "Ther--I no this prayr. I lernd that last sentnce comng upstairs. Now I'm going to imajn things into this room so that they'l always stay imajnd. Th flor is covrd with a wite velvet carpet with pink roses al over it and ther ar pink silk curtns at th windos. Th walls ar hung with gold and silvr brocade tapestry. Th furnitur is mahogny. I nevr saw any mahogny, but it dos sound SO luxurius. This is a couch al heapd with gorjus silkn cushns, pink and blu and crimsn and gold, and I am reclining gracefuly on it. I can se my reflection in that splendid big mirr hangng on th wal. I am tal and regal, clad in a gown of trailng wite lace, with a perl cross on my brest and perls in my hair. My hair is of midnyt darkns and my skin is a clear ivory palr. My name is th Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald. No, it isnt--I cant make THAT seem real." She danced up to th litl lookng-glass and peerd into it. Her pointd frekld face and solem gray ys peerd bak at her. "U'r only Ann of Green Gables," she said ernestly, "and I se u, just as u ar lookng now, wenevr I try to imajn I'm th Lady Cordelia. But it's a milion times nicer to be Ann of Green Gables than Ann of nowher in particulr, isnt it?" She bent forwrd, kisd her reflection afectionatly, and betook herself to th open windo "Dear Sno Queen, good aftrnoon. And good aftrnoon dear birchs down in th holo. And good aftrnoon, dear gray house up on th hil. I wondr if Diana is to be my bosm frend. I hope she wil, and I shal lov her very much. But I must nevr quite forget Kati Maurice and Violetta. They wud feel so hurt if I did and I'd hate to hurt anybody's feelngs, even a litl bookcase girl's or a litl eco girl's. I must be careful to remembr them and send them a kiss evry day." Ann blew a cupl of airy kisses from her fingrtips past th cherry blosms and then, with her chin in her hands, driftd luxuriusly out on a se of daydreams. CHAPTR IX Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Proprly Horifyd Ann had been a fortnyt at Green Gables befor Mrs. Lynde arived to inspect her. Mrs. Rachel, to do her justice, was not to blame for this. A severe and unseason -able atak of grippe had confined that good lady to her house evr since th ocasion of her last visit to Green Gables. Mrs. Rachel was not ofn sik and had a wel- defined contemt for peple ho wer; but grippe, she asertd, was like no othr ilness on erth and cud only be interpretd as one of th special visitations of Providnce. As soon as her doctr alowd her to put her foot out-of-dors she hurrid up to Green Gables, burstng with curiosity to se Mathew and Marilla's orfn, concernng hom al sorts of storis and supositions had gon abrod in Avonlea. Ann had made good use of evry waking moment of that fortnyt. Alredy she was aquaintd with evry tre and shrub about th place. She had discovrd that a lane opend out belo th apl orchrd and ran up thru a belt of woodland; and she had explord it to its furthst end in al its delicius vagaris of brook and brij, fir copice and wild cherry arch, cornrs thik with fern, and branchng byways of maple and mountn ash. She had made frends with th spring down in th holo-- that wondrful deep, clear icy-cold spring; it was set about with smooth red sandstones and rimd in by gret palm-like clumps of watr fern; and beyond it was a log brij over th brook. That brij led Anne's dancing feet up over a woodd hil beyond, wher perpetul twilyt reind undr th strait, thik-groing firs and spruces; th only flowrs ther wer myriads of delicat "June bels," those shyest and sweetst of woodland blooms, and a few pale, aerial starflowers, like th spirits of last year's blosms. Gossamers glimrd like threds of silvr among th tres and th fir bous and tasls seemd to utr frendly speech. Al these raptured voyajs of explration wer made in th od half ours wich she was alowd for play, and Ann talkd Mathew and Marilla halfdeaf over her discovris. Not that Mathew complaind, to be sure; he lisnd to it al with a wordless smile of enjoymnt on his face; Marilla permitd th "chatr" until she found herself becomng too intrestd in it, wherupon she always promtly quenchd Ann by a curt comand to hold her tong. Ann was out in th orchrd wen Mrs. Rachel came, wandrng at her own sweet wil thru th lush, tremu- lous grasses splashd with ruddy evenng sunshine; so that good lady had an exlnt chance to talk her ilness fuly over, describing evry ache and pulse beat with such evidnt enjoymnt that Marilla thot even grippe must bring its compnsations. Wen details wer exaustd Mrs. Rachel introduced th real reasn of her cal. "I'v been hearng som surprising things about u and Mathew." "I dont supose u ar any mor surprised than I am myself," said Marilla. "I'm getng over my surprise now." "It was too bad ther was such a mistake," said Mrs. Rachel sympatheticly. "Cudnt u hav sent her bak?" "I supose we cud, but we decided not to. Mathew took a fancy to her. And I must say I like her myself-- altho I admit she has her falts. Th house seems a difrnt place alredy. She's a real bryt litl thing." Marilla said mor than she had intendd to say wen she began, for she red disaproval in Mrs. Rachel's expression. "It's a gret responsbility u'v taken on yrself," said that lady gloomily, "especialy wen u'v nevr had any experience with children. U dont no much about her or her real disposition, I supose, and ther's no gesng how a child like that wil turn out. But I dont want to discuraj u I'm sure, Marilla." "I'm not feelng discurajd," was Marilla's dry response. "wen I make up my mind to do a thing it stays made up. I supose u'd like to se Ann. I'l cal her in." Ann came runng in presntly, her face sparklng with th delyt of her orchrd rovings; but, abashd at findng th delyt herself in th unexpectd presnce of a stranjer, she haltd confusedly inside th dor. She certnly was an od-lookng litl creatur in th short tyt wincey dress she had worn from th asylum, belo wich her thin legs seemd ungracefully long. Her frekls wer mor numerus and obtrusiv than evr; th wind had rufld her hatless hair into over-briliant disordr; it had nevr lookd redr than at that moment. "Wel, they didnt pik u for yr looks, that's sure and certn," was Mrs. Rachel Lynde's emfatic coment. Mrs. Rachel was one of those delytful and populr peple ho pride themselvs on speakng ther mind without fear or favor. "She's teribl skinny and homely, Marilla. Com here, child, and let me hav a look at u. Lawful hart, did any one evr se such frekls? And hair as red as carots! Com here, child, I say." Ann "came ther," but not exactly as Mrs. Rachel expectd. With one bound she crosd th kichn flor and stood befor Mrs. Rachel, her face scarlet with angr, her lips quivrng, and her hole slendr form tremblng from hed to foot. "I hate u," she cryd in a choked voice, stampng her foot on th flor. "I hate u--I hate u--I hate u--" a loudr stamp with each asertion of hatred. "How dare u cal me skinny and ugly? How dare u say I'm frekld and redhedd? U ar a rude, impolite, unfeelng womn!" "Ann!" exclaimd Marilla in constrnation. But Ann continud to face Mrs. Rachel undauntedly, hed up, ys blazing, hands clenchd, passionat indignation exaling from her like an atmosfere. "How dare u say such things about me?" she repeatd vehemntly. "How wud u like to hav such things said about u? How wud u like to be told that u ar fat and clumsy and probbly hadnt a spark of imajnation in u? I dont care if I do hurt yr feelngs by sayng so! I hope I hurt them. U hav hurt mine worse than they wer evr hurt befor even by Mrs. Thomas' intoxicated husbnd. And I'l NEVR forgiv u for it, nevr, nevr!" Stamp! Stamp! "Did anybody evr se such a tempr!" exclaimd th horifyd Mrs. Rachel. "Ann go to yr room and stay ther until I com up," said Marilla, recovrng her powrs of speech with dificlty. Ann, burstng into tears, rushd to th hal dor, slamd it until th tins on th porch wal outside ratld in sympathy, and fled thru th hal and up th stairs like a wirlwind. A subdud slam abov told that th dor of th east gable had been shut with equal vehemnce. "Wel, I dont envy u yr job bringng THAT up, Marilla," said Mrs. Rachel with unspeakbl solemnity. Marilla opend her lips to say she new not wat of apolojy or deprecation. Wat she did say was a surprise to herself then and evr aftrwrds. "U shudnt hav twitted her about her looks, Rachel." "Marilla Cuthbert, u dont mean to say that u ar upholdng her in such a teribl display of tempr as we'v just seen?" demandd Mrs. Rachel indignntly. "No," said Marilla sloly, "I'm not tryng to excuse her. She's been very nauty and I'l hav to giv her a talkng to about it. But we must make alownces for her. She's nevr been taut wat is ryt. And u WER too hard on her, Rachel." Marilla cud not help takng on that last sentnce, altho she was again surprised at herself for doing it. Mrs. Rachel got up with an air of ofendd dignity. "Wel, I se that I'l hav to be very careful wat I say aftr this, Marilla, since th fine feelngs of orfns, brot from goodness nos wher, hav to be considrd befor anything else. O, no, I'm not vexd--dont worry yrself. I'm too sorry for u to leve any room for angr in my mind. U'l hav yr own trubls with that child. But if u'l take my advice--wich I supose u wont do, altho I'v brot up ten children and burid two--u'l do that `talkng to' u mention with a fair- sized birch swich. I shud think THAT wud be th most efectiv languaj for that kind of a child. Her tempr machs her hair I gess. Wel, good evenng, Marilla. I hope u'l com down to se me ofn as usul. But u cant expect me to visit here again in a hurry, if I'm liabl to be flown at and insultd in such a fashn. It's somthing new in MY experience." Wherat Mrs. Rachel swept out and away--if a fat womn ho always wadld CUD be said to sweep away--and Marilla with a very solem face betook herself to th east gable. On th way upstairs she pondrd unesily as to wat she ot to do. She felt no litl dismay over th sene that had just been enactd. How unfortunat that Ann shud hav displayd such tempr befor Mrs. Rachel Lynde, of al peple! Then Marilla sudnly became aware of an uncomfrtbl and rebuking conciusness that she felt mor humiliation over this than soro over th discovry of such a serius defect in Anne's disposition. And how was she to punish her? Th amiabl sujestion of th birch swich--to th eficiency of wich al of Mrs. Rachel's own children cud hav born smartng testmny-- did not apeal to Marilla. She did not beleve she cud wip a child. No, som othr method of punishmnt must be found to bring Ann to a propr realization of th enormity of her ofense. Marilla found Ann face downwrd on her bed, cryng bitrly, quite oblivius of muddy boots on a clean countrpane. "Ann," she said not ungently. No ansr. "Ann," with gretr severity, "get off that bed this minut and lisn to wat I hav to say to u." Ann squirmd off th bed and sat rijidly on a chair beside it, her face swolen and tear-staind and her ys fixd stubrnly on th flor. "This is a nice way for u to behave. Ann! Arnt u ashamed of yrself?" "She hadnt any ryt to cal me ugly and redhedd," retortd Ann, evasiv and defiant. "U hadnt any ryt to fly into such a fury and talk th way u did to her, Ann. I was ashamed of u-- thoroly ashamed of u. I wantd u to behave nicely to Mrs. Lynde, and insted of that u hav disgraced me. I'm sure I dont no wy u shud lose yr tempr like that just because Mrs. Lynde said u wer redhaired and homely. U say it yrself ofn enuf." "O, but ther's such a difrnce between sayng a thing yrself and hearng othr peple say it," waild Ann. "U may no a thing is so, but u cant help hoping othr peple dont quite think it is. I supose u think I hav an awful tempr, but I cudnt help it. Wen she said those things somthing just rose ryt up in me and choked me. I HAD to fly out at her." "Wel, u made a fine exibition of yrself I must say. Mrs. Lynde wil hav a nice story to tel about u evrywher--and she'l tel it, too. It was a dredful thing for u to lose yr tempr like that, Ann." "Just imajn how u wud feel if sombody told u to yr face that u wer skinny and ugly," pleadd Ann tearfuly. An old remembrnce sudnly rose up befor Marilla. She had been a very smal child wen she had herd one ant say of her to anothr, "Wat a pity she is such a dark, homely litl thing." Marilla was evry day of fifty befor th sting had gon out of that memry. "I dont say that I think Mrs. Lynde was exactly ryt in sayng wat she did to u, Ann," she admitd in a softr tone. "Rachel is too outspoken. But that is no excuse for such behavir on yr part. She was a stranjer and an eldrly persn and my visitr--al thre very good reasns wy u shud hav been respectful to her. U wer rude and saucy and"--Marilla had a saving inspration of punishmnt--"u must go to her and tel her u ar very sorry for yr bad tempr and ask her to forgiv u." "I can nevr do that," said Ann determndly and darkly. "U can punish me in any way u like, Marilla. U can shut me up in a dark, damp dunjn inhabitd by snakes and toads and feed me only on bred and watr and I shal not complain. But I canot ask Mrs. Lynde to forgiv me." "We'r not in th habit of shutng peple up in dark damp dunjns," said Marilla dryly, "especialy as they'r rathr scarce in Avonlea. But apolojize to Mrs. Lynde u must and shal and u'l stay here in yr room until u can tel me u'r wilng to do it." "I shal hav to stay here forevr then," said Ann mornfuly, "because I cant tel Mrs. Lynde I'm sorry I said those things to her. How can I? I'm NOT sorry. I'm sorry I'v vexd u; but I'm GLAD I told her just wat I did. It was a gret satisfaction. I cant say I'm sorry wen I'm not, can I? I cant even IMAJN I'm sorry." "Perhaps yr imajnation wil be in betr workng ordr by th mornng," said Marilla, rising to depart. "U'l hav th nyt to think over yr conduct in and com to a betr frame of mind. U said u wud try to be a very good girl if we kept u at Green Gables, but I must say it hasnt seemd very much like it this evenng." Leving this Parthian shaft to rankle in Anne's stormy bosm, Marilla desendd to th kichn, grevusly trubld in mind and vexd in sol. She was as angry with herself as with Ann, because, wenevr she recald Mrs. Rachel's dumfoundd countnnce her lips twichd with amusemnt and she felt a most reprehensbl desire to laf. CHAPTR X Anne's Apolojy Marilla said nothing to Mathew about th afair that evenng; but wen Ann proved stil refractry th next mornng an explnation had to be made to acount for her absnce from th brekfast table. Marilla told Mathew th hole story, taking pains to impress him with a du sense of th enormity of Anne's behavir. "It's a good thing Rachel Lynde got a calng down; she's a meddlesome old gosip," was Matthew's consolatory rejoindr. "Mathew Cuthbert, I'm astonishd at u. U no that Anne's behavir was dredful, and yet u take her part! I supose u'l be sayng next thing that she otnt to be punishd at al!" "Wel now--no--not exactly," said Mathew unesily. I rekn she ot to be punishd a litl. But dont be too hard on her, Marilla. Reclect she hasnt evr had anyone to teach her ryt. U'r--u'r going to giv her somthing to eat, arnt u?" "Wen did u evr hear of me starvng peple into good behavir?" demandd Marilla indignntly. "She'l hav her meals regulr, and I'l carry them up to her myself. But she'l stay up ther until she's wilng to apolojize to Mrs. Lynde, and that's final, Mathew." Brekfast, dinr, and supr wer very silent meals--for Ann stil remaind obdurat. Aftr each meal Marilla carrid a wel-fild tray to th east gable and brot it down later on not noticebly depleted. Mathew yd its last desent with a trubld y. Had Ann eatn anything at al? Wen Marilla went out that evenng to bring th cows from th bak pastur, Mathew, ho had been hangng about th barns and wachng, slipd into th house with th air of a burglr and crept upstairs. As a jenrl thing Mathew gravitated between th kichn and th litl bedroom off th hal wher he slept; once in a wile he venturd uncomfrtbly into th parlr or sitng room wen th ministr came to te. But he had nevr been upstairs in his own house since th spring he helpd Marilla paper th spare bedroom, and that was four years ago. He tiptoed along th hal and stood for sevrl minuts outside th dor of th east gable befor he sumnd curaj to tap on it with his fingrs and then open th dor to peep in. Ann was sitng on th yelo chair by th windo gazing mornfuly out into th gardn. Very smal and unhappy she lookd, and Matthew's hart smote him. He softly closed th dor and tiptoed over to her. "Ann," he wisprd, as if afraid of being overherd, "how ar u making it, Ann?" Ann smiled wanly. "Pretty wel. I imajn a good deal, and that helps to pass th time. Of corse, it's rathr lonesm. But then, I may as wel get used to that." Ann smiled again, bravely facing th long years of solitry imprisnmnt befor her. Mathew reclectd that he must say wat he had com to say without loss of time, lest Marilla return prematurely. "Wel now, Ann, dont u think u'd betr do it and hav it over with?" he wisprd. "It'l hav to be don soonr or later, u no, for Marilla's a dredful deter- mined womn--dredful determnd, Ann. Do it ryt off, I say, and hav it over." "Do u mean apolojize to Mrs. Lynde?" "Yes--apolojize--that's th very word," said Mathew eagrly. "Just smooth it over so to speak. That's wat I was tryng to get at." "I supose I cud do it to oblije u," said Ann thotfuly. "It wud be tru enuf to say I am sorry, because I AM sorry now. I wasnt a bit sorry last nyt. I was mad clear thru, and I stayd mad al nyt. I no I did because I woke up thre times and I was just furius evry time. But this mornng it was over. I wasnt in a tempr anymor--and it left a dredful sort of goneness, too. I felt so ashamed of myself. But I just cudnt think of going and telng Mrs. Lynde so. It wud be so humili- ating. I made up my mind I'd stay shut up here forevr rathr than do that. But stil--I'd do anything for u--if u realy want me to--" "Wel now, of corse I do. It's teribl lonesm downstairs without u. Just go and smooth things over-- that's a good girl." "Very wel," said Ann resynedly. "I'l tel Marilla as soon as she coms in I'v repentd." "That's ryt--that's ryt, Ann. But dont tel Marilla I said anything about it. She myt think I was putng my or in and I promisd not to do that." "Wild horses wont drag th secret from me," promisd Ann solemly. "How wud wild horses drag a secret from a persn anyhow?" But Mathew was gon, scared at his own success. He fled hastily to th remotest cornr of th horse pastur lest Marilla shud suspect wat he had been up to. Marilla herself, upon her return to th house, was agreeably surprised to hear a plaintiv voice calng, "Marilla" over th banistrs. "Wel?" she said, going into th hal. "I'm sorry I lost my tempr and said rude things, and I'm wilng to go and tel Mrs. Lynde so." "Very wel." Marilla's crispness gave no syn of her relief. She had been wondrng wat undr th canopy she shud do if Ann did not giv in. "I'l take u down aftr milkng." Acordngly, aftr milkng, behold Marilla and Ann walkng down th lane, th formr erect and triumfnt, th latr droopng and dejectd. But halfway down Anne's dejection vanishd as if by enchantmnt. She liftd her hed and stepd lytly along, her ys fixd on th sunset sky and an air of subdud exilration about her. Marilla beheld th chanje disaprovingly. This was no meek penitnt such as it behooved her to take into th presnce of th ofendd Mrs. Lynde. "Wat ar u thinkng of, Ann?" she askd sharply. "I'm imajnng out wat I must say to Mrs. Lynde," ansrd Ann dreamily. This was satisfactry--or shud hav been so. But Marilla cud not rid herself of th notion that somthing in her sceme of punishmnt was going askew. Ann had no busness to look so rapt and radiant. Rapt and radiant Ann continud until they wer in th very presnce of Mrs. Lynde, ho was sitng nitng by her kichn windo. Then th radiance vanishd. Mornful penitence apeard on evry featur. Befor a word was spoken Ann sudnly went down on her nes befor th astonishd Mrs. Rachel and held out her hands beseechngly. "O, Mrs. Lynde, I am so extremely sorry," she said with a quivr in her voice. "I cud nevr express al my soro, no, not if I used up a hole dictionry. U must just imajn it. I behaved teribly to u--and I'v disgraced th dear frends, Mathew and Marilla, ho hav let me stay at Green Gables altho I'm not a boy. I'm a dredfuly wiked and ungrateful girl, and I deserv to be punishd and cast out by respectbl peple forevr. It was very wiked of me to fly into a tempr because u told me th truth. It WAS th truth; evry word u said was tru. My hair is red and I'm frekld and skinny and ugly. Wat I said to u was tru, too, but I shudnt hav said it. O, Mrs. Lynde, plese, plese, forgiv me. If u refuse it wil be a lifelong soro on a poor litl orfn girl wud u, even if she had a dredful tempr? O, I am sure u wudnt. Plese say u forgiv me, Mrs. Lynde." Ann claspd her hands togethr, bowd her hed, and waitd for th word of jujmnt. Ther was no mistaking her sincerity--it brethed in evry tone of her voice. Both Marilla and Mrs. Lynde recognized its unmistakebl ring. But th formr undr- stood in dismay that Ann was actuly enjoyng her vally of humiliation--was reveling in th thoroness of her abasemnt. Wher was th holesm punishmnt upon wich she, Marilla, had plumed herself? Ann had turnd it into a species of positiv plesur. Good Mrs. Lynde, not being overburdnd with perception, did not se this. She only perceved that Ann had made a very thoro apolojy and al resentmnt vanishd from her kindly, if somwat oficius, hart. "Ther, ther, get up, child," she said hartily. "Of corse I forgiv u. I gess I was a litl too hard on u, anyway. But I'm such an outspoken persn. U just musnt mind me, that's wat. It cant be denyd yr hair is teribl red; but I new a girl once--went to scool with her, in fact--hos hair was evry mite as red as yrs wen she was yung, but wen she grew up it darknd to a real hansm aubrn. I wudnt be a mite surprised if yrs did, too--not a mite." "O, Mrs. Lynde!" Ann drew a long breth as she rose to her feet. "U hav givn me a hope. I shal always feel that u ar a benefactr. O, I cud endure anything if I only thot my hair wud be a hansm aubrn wen I grew up. It wud be so much esir to be good if one's hair was a hansm aubrn, dont u think? And now may I go out into yr gardn and sit on that bench undr th apl-tres wile u and Marilla ar talkng? Ther is so much mor scope for imajnation out ther." "Laws, yes, run along, child. And u can pik a buqet of them wite June lilis over in th cornr if u like." As th dor closed behind Ann Mrs. Lynde got briskly up to lyt a lamp. "She's a real od litl thing. Take this chair, Marilla; it's esir than th one u'v got; I just keep that for th hired boy to sit on. Yes, she certnly is an od child, but ther is somthing kind of taking about her aftr al. I dont feel so surprised at u and Mathew keepng her as I did--nor so sorry for u, eithr. She may turn out al ryt. Of corse, she has a queer way of expresng herself-- a litl too--wel, too kind of forcibl, u no; but she'l likely get over that now that she's com to liv among civlized folks. And then, her temper's pretty quik, I gess; but ther's one comfrt, a child that has a quik tempr, just blaze up and cool down, aint nevr likely to be sly or deceitful. Preserv me from a sly child, that's wat. On th hole, Marilla, I kind of like her." Wen Marilla went home Ann came out of th fragrant twilyt of th orchrd with a sheaf of wite narcissi in her hands. "I apolojized pretty wel, didnt I?" she said proudly as they went down th lane. "I thot since I had to do it I myt as wel do it thoroly." "U did it thoroly, al ryt enuf," was Marilla's coment. Marilla was dismayd at findng herself inclined to laf over th reclection. She had also an unesy feelng that she ot to scold Ann for apolojizing so wel; but then, that was ridiculus! She comprmised with her concience by sayng severely: "I hope u wont hav ocasion to make many mor such apolojis. I hope u'l try to control yr tempr now, Ann." "That wudnt be so hard if peple wudnt twit me about my looks," said Ann with a sy. "I dont get cross about othr things; but I'm SO tired of being twitted about my hair and it just makes me boil ryt over. Do u supose my hair wil realy be a hansm aubrn wen I gro up?" "U shudnt think so much about yr looks, Ann. I'm afraid u ar a very vain litl girl." "How can I be vain wen I no I'm homely?" protestd Ann. "I lov pretty things; and I hate to look in th glass and se somthing that isnt pretty. It makes me feel so soroful--just as I feel wen I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isnt butiful." "Hansm is as hansm dos," quoted Marilla. "I'v had that said to me befor, but I hav my douts about it," remarkd skepticl Ann, snifng at her narcissi. "O, arnt these flowrs sweet! It was lovly of Mrs. Lynde to giv them to me. I hav no hard feelngs against Mrs. Lynde now. It givs u a lovly, comfrtbl feelng to apolojize and be forgivn, dosnt it? Arnt th stars bryt tonyt? If u cud liv in a star, wich one wud u pik? I'd like that lovly clear big one away over ther abov that dark hil." "Ann, do hold yr tong." said Marilla, thoroly worn out tryng to folo th jyrations of Anne's thots. Ann said no mor until they turnd into ther own lane. A litl jipsy wind came down it to meet them, laden with th spicy perfume of yung dew-wet ferns. Far up in th shados a cheerful lyt gleamd out thru th tres from th kichn at Green Gables. Ann sudnly came close to Marilla and slipd her hand into th oldr woman's hard palm. "It's lovly to be going home and no it's home," she said. "I lov Green Gables alredy, and I nevr lovd any place befor. No place evr seemd like home. O, Marilla, I'm so happy. I cud pray ryt now and not find it a bit hard." Somthing warm and plesnt weld up in Marilla's hart at tuch of that thin litl hand in her own--a throb of th maternity she had misd, perhaps. Its very unaccustomedness and sweetness disturbd her. She hasend to restor her sensations to ther norml calm by inculcating a moral. "If u'l be a good girl u'l always be happy, Ann. And u shud nevr find it hard to say yr prayrs." "Sayng one's prayrs isnt exactly th same thing as prayng," said Ann meditativly. "But I'm going to imajn that I'm th wind that is bloing up ther in those tre tops. Wen I get tired of th tres I'l imajn I'm jently waving down here in th ferns--and then I'l fly over to Mrs. Lynde's gardn and set th flowrs dancing--and then I'l go with one gret swoop over th clover field--and then I'l blo over th Lake of Shining Watrs and ripl it al up into litl sparklng waves. O, ther's so much scope for imajnation in a wind! So I'l not talk any mor just now, Marilla." "Thanks be to goodness for that," brethed Marilla in devout relief. CHAPTR XI Anne's Impressions of Sunday-Scool "Wel, how do u like them?" said Marilla. Ann was standng in th gable room, lookng solemly at thre new dresses spred out on th bed. One was of snuffy colord gingm wich Marilla had been temtd to by from a peddler th preceding sumr because it lookd so servicebl; one was of blak-and-wite chekrd sateen wich she had pikd up at a bargn countr in th wintr; and one was a stif print of an ugly blu shade wich she had purchasd that week at a Carmody stor. She had made them up herself, and they wer al made alike--plan skirts fulled tytly to plan waists, with sleves as plan as waist and skirt and tyt as sleves cud be. "I'l imajn that I like them," said Ann soberly. "I dont want u to imajn it," said Marilla, ofendd. "O, I can se u dont like th dresses! Wat is th matr with them? Arnt they neat and clean and new?" "Yes." "Then wy dont u like them?" "They'r--they'r not--pretty," said Ann reluctntly. "Pretty!" Marilla snifd. "I didnt trubl my hed about getng pretty dresses for u. I dont beleve in pamprng vanity, Ann, I'l tel u that ryt off. Those dresses ar good, sensbl, servicebl dresses, without any frils or furbelows about them, and they'r al u'l get this sumr. Th brown gingm and th blu print wil do u for scool wen u begin to go. Th sateen is for church and Sunday scool. I'l expect u to keep them neat and clean and not to ter them. I shud think u'd be grateful to get most anything aftr those skimpy wincey things u'v been werng." "O, I AM grateful," protestd Ann. "But I'd be evr so much gratefuller if--if u'd made just one of them with pufd sleves. Pufd sleves ar so fashnbl now. It wud giv me such a thril, Marilla, just to wer a dress with pufd sleves." "Wel, u'l hav to do without yr thril. I hadnt any material to waste on pufd sleves. I think they ar ridiculus-lookng things anyhow. I prefer th plan, sensbl ones." "But I'd rathr look ridiculus wen evrybody else dos than plan and sensbl al by myself," persistd Ann mornfuly. "Trust u for that! Wel, hang those dresses carefuly up in yr closet, and then sit down and lern th Sunday scool lesn. I got a quartrly from Mr. Bel for u and u'l go to Sunday scool tomoro," said Marilla, disap- pearing downstairs in hy dujn. Ann claspd her hands and lookd at th dresses. "I did hope ther wud be a wite one with pufd sleves," she wisprd disconslatly. "I prayd for one, but I didnt much expect it on that acount. I didnt supose God wud hav time to bothr about a litl orfn girl's dress. I new I'd just hav to depend on Marilla for it. Wel, fortunatly I can imajn that one of them is of sno-wite musln with lovly lace frils and thre-pufd sleves." Th next mornng warnngs of a sik hedache preventd Marilla from going to Sunday-scool with Ann. "U'l hav to go down and cal for Mrs. Lynde, Ann." she said. "She'l se that u get into th ryt class. Now, mind u behave yrself proprly. Stay to preachng aftrwrds and ask Mrs. Lynde to sho u our pew. Here's a cent for colection. Dont stare at peple and dont fijet. I shal expect u to tel me th text wen u com home." Ann startd off ireproachbl, arayd in th stif blak- and-wite sateen, wich, wile decent as regards length and certnly not open to th charj of skimpiness, contrived to emfasize evry cornr and angl of her thin figr. Her hat was a litl, flat, glossy, new sailr, th extreme plainness of wich had likewise much disapointd Ann, ho had permitd herself secret visions of ribn and flowrs. Th latr, howevr, wer suplyd befor Ann reachd th main road, for being confrontd halfway down th lane with a goldn frenzy of wind-stird butrcups and a glory of wild roses, Ann promtly and librly garlndd her hat with a hevy reath of them. Watevr othr peple myt hav thot of th result it satisfyd Ann, and she tripd gaily down th road, holdng her ruddy hed with its decration of pink and yelo very proudly. Wen she had reachd Mrs. Lynde's house she found that lady gon. Nothing dauntd, Ann proceedd onwrd to th church alone. In th porch she found a crowd of litl girls, al mor or less gaily atired in wites and blues and pinks, and al staring with curius ys at this stranjer in ther midst, with her extrordnry hed adornmnt. Avonlea litl girls had alredy herd queer storis about Ann. Mrs. Lynde said she had an awful tempr; Jerry Buote, th hired boy at Green Gables, said she talkd al th time to herself or to th tres and flowrs like a crazy girl. They lookd at her and wisprd to each othr behind ther quarterlies. Nobody made any frendly advances, then or later on wen th openng exrcises wer over and Ann found herself in Miss Rogerson's class. Miss Rogerson was a midl-ajed lady ho had taut a Sunday-scool class for twenty years. Her method of teachng was to ask th printd questions from th quartrly and look sternly over its ej at th particulr litl girl she thot ot to ansr th question. She lookd very ofn at Ann, and Ann, thanks to Marilla's drilng, ansrd promtly; but it may be questiond if she undrstood very much about eithr question or ansr. She did not think she liked Miss Rogerson, and she felt very misrbl; evry othr litl girl in th class had pufd sleves. Ann felt that life was realy not worth livng without pufd sleves. "Wel, how did u like Sunday scool?" Marilla wantd to no wen Ann came home. Her reath havng faded, Ann had discardd it in th lane, so Marilla was spared th nolej of that for a time. "I didnt like it a bit. It was horid." "Ann Shirly!" said Marilla rebukingly. Ann sat down on th rokr with a long sy, kisd one of Bonny's leavs, and waved her hand to a blosmng fuchsia. "They myt hav been lonesm wile I was away," she explaind. "And now about th Sunday scool. I behaved wel, just as u told me. Mrs. Lynde was gon, but I went ryt on myself. I went into th church, with a lot of othr litl girls, and I sat in th cornr of a pew by th windo wile th openng exrcises went on. Mr. Bel made an awfuly long prayr. I wud hav been dredfuly tired befor he got thru if I hadnt been sitng by that windo. But it lookd ryt out on th Lake of Shining Watrs, so I just gazed at that and imajnd al sorts of splendid things." "U shudnt hav don anything of th sort. U shud hav lisnd to Mr. Bel." "But he wasnt talkng to me," protestd Ann. "He was talkng to God and he didnt seem to be very much intr- ested in it, eithr. I think he thot God was too far off tho. Ther was long ro of wite birchs hangng over th lake and th sunshine fel down thru them, 'way, 'way down, deep into th watr. O, Marilla, it was like a butiful dream! It gave me a thril and I just said, `Thank u for it, God,' two or thre times." "Not out loud, I hope," said Marilla anxiusly. "O, no, just undr my breth. Wel, Mr. Bel did get thru at last and they told me to go into th clasroom with Miss Rogerson's class. Ther wer nine othr girls in it. They al had pufd sleves. I tryd to imajn mine wer pufd, too, but I cudnt. Wy cudnt I? It was as esy as cud be to imajn they wer pufd wen I was alone in th east gable, but it was awfuly hard ther among th othrs ho had realy truly pufs." "U shudnt hav been thinkng about yr sleves in Sunday scool. U shud hav been atendng to th lesn. I hope u new it." "O, yes; and I ansrd a lot of questions. Miss Rogerson askd evr so many. I dont think it was fair for her to do al th askng. Ther wer lots I wantd to ask her, but I didnt like to because I didnt think she was a kindred spirit. Then al th othr litl girls recited a parafrase. She askd me if I new any. I told her I didnt, but I cud recite, `Th Dog at His Master's Grave' if she liked. That's in th Third Royl Readr. It isnt a realy truly relijus pece of poetry, but it's so sad and melancly that it myt as wel be. She said it wudnt do and she told me to lern th nineteenth parafrase for next Sunday. I red it over in church aftrwrds and it's splendid. Ther ar two lines in particulr that just thril me. "`Quik as th slautrd squadrons fel In Midian's evil day.' I dont no wat `squadrons' means nor `Midian,' eithr, but it sounds SO tragical. I can hardly wait until next Sunday to recite it. I'l practis it al th week. Aftr Sunday scool I askd Miss Rogerson--because Mrs. Lynde was too far away--to sho me yr pew. I sat just as stil as I cud and th text was Revlations, third chaptr, secnd and third verses. It was a very long text. If I was a ministr I'd pik th short, snappy ones. Th sermn was awfuly long, too. I supose th ministr had to mach it to th text. I didnt think he was a bit intrestng. Th trubl with him seems to be that he hasnt enuf imajnation. I didnt lisn to him very much. I just let my thots run and I thot of th most surprising things." Marilla felt helplesly that al this shud be sternly reproved, but she was hamprd by th undenyabl fact that som of th things Ann had said, especialy about th minister's sermns and Mr. Bell's prayrs, wer wat she herself had realy thot deep down in her hart for years, but had nevr givn expression to. It almost seemd to her that those secret, unuttered, criticl thots had sudnly taken visbl and acusing shape and form in th persn of this outspoken morsl of neglectd humanity. CHAPTR XII A Solem Vow and Promis It was not until th next Friday that Marilla herd th story of th flowr-rethed hat. She came home from Mrs. Lynde's and cald Ann to acount. "Ann, Mrs. Rachel says u went to church last Sunday with yr hat rigd out ridiculus with roses and butrcups. Wat on erth put u up to such a caper? A pretty-lookng object u must hav been!" "O. I no pink and yelo arnt becomng to me," began Ann. "Becomng fiddlesticks! It was putng flowrs on yr hat at al, no matr wat color they wer, that was ridiculus. U ar th most agravating child!" "I dont se wy it's any mor ridiculus to wer flowrs on yr hat than on yr dress," protestd Ann. "Lots of litl girls ther had buqets pind on ther dresses. Wat's th difrnce?" Marilla was not to be drawn from th safe concrete into dubius paths of th abstract. "Dont ansr me bak like that, Ann. It was very silly of u to do such a thing. Nevr let me cach u at such a trik again. Mrs. Rachel says she thot she wud sink thru th flor wen she com in al rigd out like that. She cudnt get near enuf to tel u to take them off til it was too late. She says peple talkd about it somthing dredful. Of corse they wud think I had no betr sense than to let u go dekd out like that." "O, I'm so sorry," said Ann, tears welng into her ys. "I nevr thot u'd mind. Th roses and butrcups wer so sweet and pretty I thot they'd look lovly on my hat. Lots of th litl girls had artificial flowrs on ther hats. I'm afraid I'm going to be a dredful trial to u. Maybe u'd betr send me bak to th asylum. That wud be teribl; I dont think I cud endure it; most likely I wud go into consumtion; I'm so thin as it is, u se. But that wud be betr than being a trial to u." "Nonsnse," said Marilla, vexd at herself for havng made th child cry. "I dont want to send u bak to th asylum, I'm sure. Al I want is that u shud behave like othr litl girls and not make yrself ridiculus. Dont cry any mor. I'v got som news for u. Diana Barry came home this aftrnoon. I'm going up to se if I can boro a skirt patrn from Mrs. Barry, and if u like u can com with me and get aquaintd with Diana." Ann rose to her feet, with claspd hands, th tears stil glisnng on her cheeks; th dish towl she had been hemng slipd unheedd to th flor. "O, Marilla, I'm frytnd--now that it has com I'm actuly frytnd. Wat if she shudnt like me! It wud be th most tragical disapointmnt of my life." "Now, dont get into a fluster. And I do wish u wudnt use such long words. It sounds so funny in a litl girl. I gess Diana'll like u wel enuf. It's her mothr u'v got to rekn with. If she dosnt like u it wont matr how much Diana dos. If she has herd about yr outburst to Mrs. Lynde and going to church with butrcups round yr hat I dont no wat she'l think of u. U must be polite and wel behaved, and dont make any of yr startlng speechs. For pity's sake, if th child isnt actuly tremblng!" Ann WAS tremblng. Her face was pale and tense. "O, Marilla, u'd be exited, too, if u wer going to meet a litl girl u hoped to be yr bosm frend and hos mothr mytnt like u," she said as she hasend to get her hat. They went over to Orchrd Slope by th short cut across th brook and up th firry hil grove. Mrs. Barry came to th kichn dor in ansr to Marilla's nok. She was a tal blak-yd, blak-haird womn, with a very reslute mouth. She had th reputation of being very strict with her children. "How do u do, Marilla?" she said cordialy. "Com in. And this is th litl girl u hav adoptd, I supose?" "Yes, this is Ann Shirly," said Marilla. "Speld with an E," gaspd Ann, ho, tremulus and exited as she was, was determnd ther shud be no misundrstandng on that importnt point. Mrs. Barry, not hearng or not comprehendng, merely shook hands and said kindly: "How ar u?" "I am wel in body altho considrbl rumpld up in spirit, thank u mam," said Ann gravely. Then aside to Marilla in an audbl wispr, "Ther wasnt anything startlng in that, was ther, Marilla?" Diana was sitng on th sofa, readng a book wich she dropd wen th calrs entrd. She was a very pretty litl girl, with her mother's blak ys and hair, and rosy cheeks, and th merry expression wich was her inheritnce from her fathr. "This is my litl girl Diana," said Mrs. Barry. "Diana, u myt take Ann out into th gardn and sho her yr flowrs. It wil be betr for u than strainng yr ys over that book. She reads entirely too much--" this to Marilla as th litl girls went out--"and I cant prevent her, for her fathr aids and abets her. She's always porng over a book. I'm glad she has th prospect of a playmate-- perhaps it wil take her mor out-of-dors." Outside in th gardn, wich was ful of melo sunset lyt streamng thru th dark old firs to th west of it, stood Ann and Diana, gazing bashfully at each othr over a clump of gorjus tiger lilis. Th Barry gardn was a bowry wildrness of flowrs wich wud hav delytd Anne's hart at any time less fraut with destny. It was encircld by huje old wilos and tal firs, beneath wich flurishd flowrs that lovd th shade. Prim, ryt-angld paths neatly bordrd with clamshells, intrsectd it like moist red ribns and in th beds between old-fashnd flowrs ran riot. Ther wer rosy bleedng-harts and gret splendid crimsn peonies; wite, fragrant narcissi and thorny, sweet Scoch roses; pink and blu and wite columbines and lilac-tintd Bouncing Bets; clumps of southernwood and ribn grass and mint; purpl Adam-and-Eve, dafodls, and masses of sweet clover wite with its delicat, fragrant, fethry sprays; scarlet lytnng that shot its firy lances over prim wite musk-flowrs; a gardn it was wher sunshine lingrd and bes humd, and winds, begiled into loitrng, purd and rusld. "O, Diana," said Ann at last, claspng her hands and speakng almost in a wispr, "o, do u think u can like me a litl--enuf to be my bosm frend?" Diana lafd. Diana always lafd befor she spoke. "Wy, I gess so," she said frankly. "I'm awfuly glad u'v com to liv at Green Gables. It wil be jolly to hav sombody to play with. Ther isnt any othr girl ho lives near enuf to play with, and I'v no sistrs big enuf." "Wil u swer to be my frend forevr and evr?" demandd Ann eagrly. Diana lookd shokd. "Wy it's dredfuly wiked to swer," she said rebukingly. "O no, not my kind of swerng. Ther ar two kinds, u no." "I nevr herd of but one kind," said Diana doutfuly. "Ther realy is anothr. O, it isnt wiked at al. It just means vowng and promisng solemly." "Wel, I dont mind doing that," agreed Diana, releved. "How do u do it?" "We must join hands--so," said Ann gravely. "It ot to be over runng watr. We'l just imajn this path is runng watr. I'l repeat th oath first. I solemly swer to be faithful to my bosm frend, Diana Barry, as long as th sun and moon shal endure. Now u say it and put my name in." Diana repeatd th "oath" with a laf for and aft. Then she said: "U'r a queer girl, Ann. I herd befor that u wer queer. But I beleve I'm going to like u real wel." Wen Marilla and Ann went home Diana went with them as for as th log brij. Th two litl girls walkd with ther arms about each othr. At th brook they partd with many promises to spend th next aftrnoon togethr. "Wel, did u find Diana a kindred spirit?" askd Marilla as they went up thru th gardn of Green Gables. "O yes," syd Ann, blisfuly unconcius of any sarcasm on Marilla's part. "O Marilla, I'm th happiest girl on Prince Edwrd Iland this very moment. I asure u I'l say my prayrs with a ryt good-wil tonyt. Diana and I ar going to bild a playhouse in Mr. Wiliam Bell's birch grove tomoro. Can I hav those broken peces of china that ar out in th woodshed? Diana's birthday is in Febry and mine is in March. Dont u think that is a very stranje coincidnce? Diana is going to lend me a book to red. She says it's perfectly splendid and tremendusly exiting. She's going to sho me a place bak in th woods wher rice lilis gro. Dont u think Diana has got very solful ys? I wish I had solful ys. Diana is going to teach me to sing a song cald `Nelly in th Hazel Dell.' She's going to giv me a pictur to put up in my room; it's a perfectly butiful pictur, she says--a lovly lady in a pale blu silk dress. A sewng-machine ajent gave it to her. I wish I had somthing to giv Diana. I'm an inch talr than Diana, but she is evr so much fatr; she says she'd like to be thin because it's so much mor graceful, but I'm afraid she only said it to soothe my feelngs. We'r going to th shor som day to gathr shels. We hav agreed to cal th spring down by th log brij th Dryad's Bubl. Isnt that a perfectly elegnt name? I red a story once about a spring cald that. A dryad is sort of a grown-up fairy, I think." "Wel, al I hope is u wont talk Diana to deth," said Marilla. "But remembr this in al yr planng, Ann. U'r not going to play al th time nor most of it. U'l hav yr work to do and it'l hav to be don first." Anne's cup of happiness was ful, and Mathew causd it to overflo. He had just got home from a trip to th stor at Carmody, and he sheepishly produced a smal parcel from his poket and handd it to Ann, with a deprecatory look at Marilla. "I herd u say u liked choclat sweeties, so I got u som," he said. "Humf," snifd Marilla. "It'l ruin her teeth and stomac. Ther, ther, child, dont look so disml. U can eat those, since Mathew has gon and got them. He'd betr hav brot u peppermints. They'r wholesomer. Dont sikn yrself eatng al them at once now." "O, no, indeed, I wont," said Ann eagrly. "I'l just eat one tonyt, Marilla. And I can giv Diana half of them, cant I? Th othr half wil taste twice as sweet to me if I giv som to her. It's delytful to think I hav somthing to giv her." "I wil say it for th child," said Marilla wen Ann had gon to her gable, "she isnt stinjy. I'm glad, for of al falts I detest stinjiness in a child. Dear me, it's only thre weeks since she came, and it seems as if she'd been here always. I cant imajn th place without her. Now, dont be lookng I told-u-so, Mathew. That's bad enuf in a womn, but it isnt to be endured in a man. I'm perfectly wilng to own up that I'm glad I consentd to keep th child and that I'm getng fond of her, but dont u rub it in, Mathew Cuthbert." CHAPTR XIII Th Delyts of Anticipation "It's time Ann was in to do her sewng," said Marilla, glancing at th clok and then out into th yelo August aftrnoon wher everything drowsd in th heat. "She stayd playng with Diana mor than half an our more'n I gave her leve to; and now she's perchd out ther on th woodpile talkng to Mathew, nineteen to th dozn, wen she nos perfectly wel she ot to be at her work. And of corse he's lisnng to her like a perfect ninny. I nevr saw such an infatuated man. Th mor she talks and th odr th things she says, th mor he's delytd evidntly. Ann Shirly, u com ryt in here this minut, do u hear me!" A series of stacato taps on th west windo brot Ann flyng in from th yard, ys shining, cheeks faintly flushd with pink, unbraided hair streamng behind her in a torent of brytness. "O, Marilla," she exclaimd brethlesly, "ther's going to be a Sunday-scool picnic next week--in Mr. Harmon Andrews's field, ryt near th lake of Shining Watrs. And Mrs. Superintendnt Bel and Mrs. Rachel Lynde ar going to make ice cream--think of it, Marilla--ICE CREAM! And, o, Marilla, can I go to it?" "Just look at th clok, if u plese, Ann. Wat time did I tel u to com in?" "Two oclok--but isnt it splendid about th picnic, Marilla? Plese can I go? O, I'v nevr been to a picnic--I'v dreamd of picnics, but I'v nevr--" "Yes, I told u to com at two oclok. And it's a quartr to thre. I'd like to no wy u didnt obey me, Ann." "Wy, I ment to, Marilla, as much as cud be. But u hav no idea how fasnating Idlewild is. And then, of corse, I had to tel Mathew about th picnic. Mathew is such a sympathetic lisnr. Plese can I go?" "U'l hav to lern to resist th fasnation of Idlewhatever- u-cal-it. Wen I tel u to com in at a certn time I mean that time and not half an our later. And u neednt stop to discorse with sympathetic lisnrs on yr way, eithr. As for th picnic, of corse u can go. U'r a Sunday-scool scolr, and it's not likely I'd refuse to let u go wen al th othr litl girls ar going." "But--but," faltrd Ann, "Diana says that evrybody must take a basket of things to eat. I cant cook, as u no, Marilla, and--and--I dont mind going to a picnic without pufd sleves so much, but I'd feel teribly humiliated if I had to go without a basket. It's been preyng on my mind evr since Diana told me." "Wel, it neednt prey any longr. I'l bake u a basket." "O, u dear good Marilla. O, u ar so kind to me. O, I'm so much oblijed to u." Getng thru with her "ohs" Ann cast herself into Marilla's arms and rapturusly kisd her salo cheek. It was th first time in her hole life that childish lips had voluntrly tuchd Marilla's face. Again that sudn sensation of startlng sweetness thrild her. She was secretly vastly plesed at Anne's impulsiv caress, wich was probbly th reasn wy she said brusqely: "Ther, ther, nevr mind yr kisng nonsnse. I'd soonr se u doing strictly as u'r told. As for cookng, I mean to begin givng u lesns in that som of these days. But u'r so featherbrained, Ann, I'v been waitng to se if u'd sober down a litl and lern to be stedy befor I begin. U'v got to keep yr wits about u in cookng and not stop in th midl of things to let yr thots rove al over creation. Now, get out yr pachwork and hav yr square don befor tetime." "I do NOT like pachwork," said Ann dolefuly, huntng out her workbasket and sitng down befor a litl heap of red and wite diamnds with a sy. "I think som kinds of sewng wud be nice; but ther's no scope for imajnation in pachwork. It's just one litl seam aftr anothr and u nevr seem to be getng anywher. But of corse I'd rathr be Ann of Green Gables sewng pachwork than Ann of any othr place with nothing to do but play. I wish time went as quik sewng pachs as it dos wen I'm playng with Diana, tho. O, we do hav such elegnt times, Marilla. I hav to furnish most of th imajnation, but I'm wel able to do that. Diana is simply perfect in evry othr way. U no that litl pece of land across th brook that runs up between our farm and Mr. Barry's. It belongs to Mr. Wiliam Bel, and ryt in th cornr ther is a litl ring of wite birch tres--th most romantic spot, Marilla. Diana and I hav our playhouse ther. We cal it Idlewild. Isnt that a poeticl name? I asure u it took me som time to think it out. I stayd awake nearly a hole nyt befor I inventd it. Then, just as I was dropng off to sleep, it came like an inspration. Diana was ENRAPTURD wen she herd it. We hav got our house fixd up elegntly. U must com and se it, Marilla--wont u? We hav gret big stones, al covrd with moss, for seats, and bords from tre to tre for shelvs. And we hav al our dishs on them. Of corse, they'r al broken but it's th esiest thing in th world to imajn that they ar hole. Ther's a pece of a plate with a spray of red and yelo ivy on it that is especialy butiful. We keep it in th parlr and we hav th fairy glass ther, too. Th fairy glass is as lovly as a dream. Diana found it out in th woods behind ther chikn house. It's al ful of rainbos--just litl yung rainbos that havnt grown big yet--and Diana's mothr told her it was broken off a hangng lamp they once had. But it's nice to imajn th fairis lost it one nyt wen they had a bal, so we cal it th fairy glass. Mathew is going to make us a table. O, we hav named that litl round pool over in Mr. Barry's field Willowmere. I got that name out of th book Diana lent me. That was a thrilng book, Marilla. Th heroin had five lovrs. I'd be satisfyd with one, wudnt u? She was very hansm and she went thru gret tribulations. She cud faint as esy as anything. I'd lov to be able to faint, wudnt u, Marilla? It's so romantic. But I'm realy very helthy for al I'm so thin. I beleve I'm getng fatr, tho. Dont u think I am? I look at my elbos evry mornng wen I get up to se if any dimpls ar comng. Diana is havng a new dress made with elbo sleves. She is going to wer it to th picnic. O, I do hope it wil be fine next Wensday. I dont feel that I cud endure th disapointmnt if anything hapnd to prevent me from getng to th picnic. I supose I'd liv thru it, but I'm certn it wud be a lifelong soro. It wudnt matr if I got to a hundred picnics in aftr years; they wudnt make up for misng this one. They'r going to hav boats on th Lake of Shining Watrs--and ice cream, as I told u. I hav nevr tasted ice cream. Diana tryd to explain wat it was like, but I gess ice cream is one of those things that ar beyond imajnation." "Ann, u hav talkd even on for ten minuts by th clok," said Marilla. "Now, just for curiosity's sake, se if u can hold yr tong for th same length of time." Ann held her tong as desired. But for th rest of th week she talkd picnic and thot picnic and dreamd picnic. On Satrday it raind and she workd herself up into such a frantic state lest it shud keep on rainng until and over Wensday that Marilla made her sew an extra pachwork square by way of stedying her nervs. On Sunday Ann confided to Marilla on th way home from church that she grew actuly cold al over with exitemnt wen th ministr anounced th picnic from th pulpit. "Such a thril as went up and down my bak, Marilla! I dont think I'd evr realy beleved until then that ther was onestly going to be a picnic. I cudnt help fearng I'd only imajnd it. But wen a ministr says a thing in th pulpit u just hav to beleve it." "U set yr hart too much on things, Ann," said Marilla, with a sy. "I'm afraid ther'l be a gret many disapointmnts in stor for u thru life." "O, Marilla, lookng forwrd to things is half th plesur of them," exclaimd Ann. "U mayn't get th things themselvs; but nothing can prevent u from havng th fun of lookng forwrd to them. Mrs. Lynde says, `Blesd ar they ho expect nothing for they shal not be disapointd.' But I think it wud be worse to expect nothing than to be disapointd." Marilla wor her amethyst brooch to church that day as usul. Marilla always wor her amethyst brooch to church. She wud hav thot it rathr sacrilejus to leve it off--as bad as forgetng her Bible or her colection dime. That amethyst brooch was Marilla's most tresurd posession. A sefaring uncl had givn it to her mothr ho in turn had bequethed it to Marilla. It was an old-fashnd oval, containng a braid of her mother's hair, suroundd by a bordr of very fine amethysts. Marilla new too litl about precius stones to realize how fine th amethysts actuly wer; but she thot them very butiful and was always plesntly concius of ther violet shimr at her throat, abov her good brown satn dress, even altho she cud not se it. Ann had been smitn with delytd admration wen she first saw that brooch. "O, Marilla, it's a perfectly elegnt brooch. I dont no how u can pay atention to th sermn or th prayrs wen u hav it on. I cudnt, I no. I think amethysts ar just sweet. They ar wat I used to think diamnds wer like. Long ago, befor I had evr seen a diamnd, I red about them and I tryd to imajn wat they wud be like. I thot they wud be lovly glimrng purpl stones. Wen I saw a real diamnd in a lady's ring one day I was so disapointd I cryd. Of corse, it was very lovly but it wasnt my idea of a diamnd. Wil u let me hold th brooch for one minut, Marilla? Do u think amethysts can be th sols of good violets?" CHAPTR XIV Anne's Confession ON th Monday evenng befor th picnic Marilla came down from her room with a trubld face. "Ann," she said to that smal persnaj, ho was shelng pes by th spotless table and singng, "Nelly of th Hazel Dell" with a vigr and expression that did credit to Diana's teachng, "did u se anything of my amethyst brooch? I thot I stuk it in my pincushion wen I came home from church yestrday evenng, but I cant find it anywher." "I--I saw it this aftrnoon wen u wer away at th Aid Society," said Ann, a litl sloly. "I was pasng yr dor wen I saw it on th cushn, so I went in to look at it." "Did u tuch it?" said Marilla sternly. "Y-e-e-s," admitd Ann, "I took it up and I pind it on my brest just to se how it wud look." "U had no busness to do anything of th sort. It's very rong in a litl girl to medl. U shudnt hav gon into my room in th first place and u shudnt hav tuchd a brooch that didnt belong to u in th secnd. Wher did u put it?" "O, I put it bak on th burau. I hadnt it on a minut. Truly, I didnt mean to medl, Marilla. I didnt think about its being rong to go in and try on th brooch; but I se now that it was and I'l nevr do it again. That's one good thing about me. I nevr do th same nauty thing twice." "U didnt put it bak," said Marilla. "That brooch isnt anywher on th burau. U'v taken it out or somthing, Ann." "I did put it bak," said Ann quikly--pertly, Marilla thot. "I dont just remembr wethr I stuk it on th pincushion or laid it in th china tray. But I'm perfectly certn I put it bak." "I'l go and hav anothr look," said Marilla, determnng to be just. "If u put that brooch bak it's ther stil. If it isnt I'l no u didnt, that's al!" Marilla went to her room and made a thoro serch, not only over th burau but in evry othr place she thot th brooch myt posbly be. It was not to be found and she returnd to th kichn. "Ann, th brooch is gon. By yr own admission u wer th last persn to handl it. Now, wat hav u don with it? Tel me th truth at once. Did u take it out and lose it?" "No, I didnt," said Ann solemly, meetng Marilla's angry gaze squarely. "I nevr took th brooch out of yr room and that is th truth, if I was to be led to th blok for it--altho I'm not very certn wat a blok is. So ther, Marilla." Anne's "so ther" was only intendd to emfasize her asertion, but Marilla took it as a display of defiance. "I beleve u ar telng me a falshood, Ann," she said sharply. "I no u ar. Ther now, dont say anything mor unless u ar prepared to tel th hole truth. Go to yr room and stay ther until u ar redy to confess." "Wil I take th pes with me?" said Ann meekly. "No, I'l finish shelng them myself. Do as I bid u." Wen Ann had gon Marilla went about her evenng tasks in a very disturbd state of mind. She was worrid about her valubl brooch. Wat if Ann had lost it? And how wiked of th child to deny havng taken it, wen anybody cud se she must hav! With such an inocent face, too! "I dont no wat I wudnt soonr hav had hapn," thot Marilla, as she nervusly sheld th pes. "Of corse, I dont supose she ment to steal it or anything like that. She's just taken it to play with or help along that imajnation of hers. She must hav taken it, that's clear, for ther hasnt been a sol in that room since she was in it, by her own story, until I went up tonyt. And th brooch is gon, ther's nothing surer. I supose she has lost it and is afraid to own up for fear she'l be punishd. It's a dredful thing to think she tels falshoods. It's a far worse thing than her fit of tempr. It's a fearful responsbility to hav a child in yr house u cant trust. Slyness and untruthfulness--that's wat she has displayd. I declare I feel worse about that than about th brooch. If she'd only hav told th truth about it I wudnt mind so much." Marilla went to her room at intrvls al thru th evenng and serchd for th brooch, without findng it. A bedtime visit to th east gable produced no result. Ann persistd in denyng that she new anything about th brooch but Marilla was only th mor firmly convinced that she did. She told Mathew th story th next mornng. Mathew was confoundd and puzld; he cud not so quikly lose faith in Ann but he had to admit that circmstnces wer against her. "U'r sure it hasnt fel down behind th burau?" was th only sujestion he cud ofr. "I'v moved th burau and I'v taken out th drawrs and I'v lookd in evry crak and cranny" was Marilla's positiv ansr. "Th brooch is gon and that child has taken it and lied about it. That's th plan, ugly truth, Mathew Cuthbert, and we myt as wel look it in th face." "Wel now, wat ar u going to do about it?" Mathew askd forlornly, feelng secretly thankful that Marilla and not he had to deal with th situation. He felt no desire to put his or in this time. "She'l stay in her room until she confesses," said Marilla grimly, remembrng th success of this method in th formr case. "Then we'l se. Perhaps we'l be able to find th brooch if she'l only tel wher she took it; but in any case she'l hav to be severely punishd, Mathew." "Wel now, u'l hav to punish her," said Mathew, reachng for his hat. "I'v nothing to do with it, remembr. U warnd me off yrself." Marilla felt desertd by evryone. She cud not even go to Mrs. Lynde for advice. She went up to th east gable with a very serius face and left it with a face mor serius stil. Ann stedfastly refused to confess. She persistd in asertng that she had not taken th brooch. Th child had evidntly been cryng and Marilla felt a pang of pity wich she sternly represd. By nyt she was, as she expresd it, "beat out." "U'l stay in this room until u confess, Ann. U can make up yr mind to that," she said firmly. "But th picnic is tomoro, Marilla," cryd Ann. "U wont keep me from going to that, wil u? U'l just let me out for th aftrnoon, wont u? Then I'l stay here as long as u like AFTRWRDS cheerfuly. But I MUST go to th picnic." "U'l not go to picnics nor anywher else until u'v confesd, Ann." "O, Marilla," gaspd Ann. But Marilla had gon out and shut th dor. Wensday mornng dawnd as bryt and fair as if expresly made to ordr for th picnic. Birds sang around Green Gables; th Madona lilis in th gardn sent out whiffs of perfume that entrd in on viewless winds at evry dor and windo, and wandrd thru hals and rooms like spirits of benediction. Th birchs in th holo waved joyful hands as if wachng for Anne's usul mornng greetng from th east gable. But Ann was not at her windo. Wen Marilla took her brekfast up to her she found th child sitng primly on her bed, pale and reslute, with tyt-shut lips and gleamng ys. "Marilla, I'm redy to confess." "Ah!" Marilla laid down her tray. Once again her method had succeedd; but her success was very bitr to her. "Let me hear wat u hav to say then, Ann." "I took th amethyst brooch," said Ann, as if repeatng a lesn she had lernd. "I took it just as u said. I didnt mean to take it wen I went in. But it did look so butiful, Marilla, wen I pind it on my brest that I was overcom by an iresistbl temtation. I imajnd how perfectly thrilng it wud be to take it to Idlewild and play I was th Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald. It wud be so much esir to imajn I was th Lady Cordelia if I had a real amethyst brooch on. Diana and I make neklaces of roseberries but wat ar roseberries compared to amethysts? So I took th brooch. I thot I cud put it bak befor u came home. I went al th way around by th road to lengthn out th time. Wen I was going over th brij across th Lake of Shining Watrs I took th brooch off to hav anothr look at it. O, how it did shine in th sunlyt! And then, wen I was leanng over th brij, it just slipd thru my fingrs--so--and went down--down--down, al purplysparkling, and sank forevermore beneath th Lake of Shining Watrs. And that's th best I can do at confesng, Marilla." Marilla felt hot angr surj up into her hart again. This child had taken and lost her tresurd amethyst brooch and now sat ther calmly reciting th details therof without th least aparent compunction or repentnce. "Ann, this is teribl," she said, tryng to speak calmly. "U ar th very wickedest girl I evr herd of" "Yes, I supose I am," agreed Ann tranquilly. "And I no I'l hav to be punishd. It'l be yr duty to punish me, Marilla. Wont u plese get it over ryt off because I'd like to go to th picnic with nothing on my mind." "Picnic, indeed! U'l go to no picnic today, Ann Shirly. That shal be yr punishmnt. And it isnt half severe enuf eithr for wat u'v don!" "Not go to th picnic!" Ann sprang to her feet and cluchd Marilla's hand. "But u PROMISD me I myt! O, Marilla, I must go to th picnic. That was wy I confesd. Punish me any way u like but that. O, Marilla, plese, plese, let me go to th picnic. Think of th ice cream! For anything u no I may nevr hav a chance to taste ice cream again." Marilla disngajed Anne's clingng hands stonily. "U neednt plead, Ann. U ar not going to th picnic and that's final. No, not a word." Ann realized that Marilla was not to be moved. She claspd her hands togethr, gave a piercing shriek, and then flung herself face downwrd on th bed, cryng and rithing in an utr abandnmnt of disapointmnt and despair. "For th land's sake!" gaspd Marilla, hasenng from th room. "I beleve th child is crazy. No child in her senses wud behave as she dos. If she isnt she's utrly bad. O dear, I'm afraid Rachel was ryt from th first. But I'v put my hand to th plow and I wont look bak." That was a disml mornng. Marilla workd fiercely and scrubd th porch flor and th dairy shelvs wen she cud find nothing else to do. Neithr th shelvs nor th porch needd it--but Marilla did. Then she went out and raked th yard. Wen dinr was redy she went to th stairs and cald Ann. A tear-staind face apeard, lookng trajicly over th banistrs. "Com down to yr dinr, Ann." "I dont want any dinr, Marilla," said Ann, sobbingly. "I cudnt eat anything. My hart is broken. U'l feel remorse of concience somday, I expect, for brekng it, Marilla, but I forgiv u. Remembr wen th time coms that I forgiv u. But plese dont ask me to eat anything, especialy boild pork and greens. Boild pork and greens ar so unromantic wen one is in afliction." Exasprated, Marilla returnd to th kichn and pord out her tale of wo to Mathew, ho, between his sense of justice and his unlawful sympathy with Ann, was a misrbl man. "Wel now, she shudnt hav taken th brooch, Marilla, or told storis about it," he admitd, mournfuly surveyng his plateful of unromantic pork and greens as if he, like Ann, thot it a food unsuitd to crises of feelng, "but she's such a litl thing--such an intrestng litl thing. Dont u think it's pretty ruf not to let her go to th picnic wen she's so set on it?" "Mathew Cuthbert, I'm amazed at u. I think I'v let her off entirely too esy. And she dosnt apear to realize how wiked she's been at al--that's wat worris me most. If she'd realy felt sorry it wudnt be so bad. And u dont seem to realize it, neithr; u'r making excuses for her al th time to yrself--I can se that." "Wel now, she's such a litl thing," feebly reitrated Mathew. "And ther shud be alownces made, Marilla. U no she's nevr had any bringng up." "Wel, she's havng it now" retortd Marilla. Th retort silenced Mathew if it did not convince him. That dinr was a very disml meal. Th only cheerful thing about it was Jerry Buote, th hired boy, and Marilla resentd his cheerfulness as a persnl insult. Wen her dishs wer washd and her bred sponj set and her hens fed Marilla remembrd that she had noticed a smal rent in her best blak lace shawl wen she had taken it off on Monday aftrnoon on returng from th Ladies' Aid. She wud go and mend it. Th shawl was in a box in her trunk. As Marilla liftd it out, th sunlyt, falng thru th vines that clustrd thikly about th windo, struk upon somthing caut in th shawl--somthing that glitrd and sparkld in facets of violet lyt. Marilla snachd at it with a gasp. It was th amethyst brooch, hangng to a thred of th lace by its cach! "Dear life and hart," said Marilla blankly, "wat dos this mean? Here's my brooch safe and sound that I thot was at th botm of Barry's pond. Watevr did that girl mean by sayng she took it and lost it? I declare I beleve Green Gables is bewichd. I remembr now that wen I took off my shawl Monday aftrnoon I laid it on th burau for a minut. I supose th brooch got caut in it somhow. Wel!" Marilla betook herself to th east gable, brooch in hand. Ann had cryd herself out and was sitng dejectdly by th windo. "Ann Shirly," said Marilla solemly, "I'v just found my brooch hangng to my blak lace shawl. Now I want to no wat that rigmrole u told me this mornng ment." "Wy, u said u'd keep me here until I confesd," returnd Ann wearily, "and so I decided to confess because I was bound to get to th picnic. I thot out a confession last nyt aftr I went to bed and made it as intrestng as I cud. And I said it over and over so that I wudnt forget it. But u wudnt let me go to th picnic aftr al, so al my trubl was wasted." Marilla had to laf in spite of herself. But her concience prikd her. "Ann, u do beat al! But I was rong--I se that now. I shudnt hav doutd yr word wen I'd nevr nown u to tel a story. Of corse, it wasnt ryt for u to confess to a thing u hadnt don--it was very rong to do so. But I drove u to it. So if u'l forgiv me, Ann, I'l forgiv u and we'l start square again. And now get yrself redy for th picnic." Ann flew up like a roket. "O, Marilla, isnt it too late?" "No, it's only two oclok. They wont be mor than wel gathrd yet and it'l be an our befor they hav te. Wash yr face and comb yr hair and put on yr gingm. I'l fil a basket for u. Ther's plenty of stuf baked in th house. And I'l get Jerry to hich up th sorel and drive u down to th picnic ground." "O, Marilla," exclaimd Ann, flyng to th washstand. "Five minuts ago I was so misrbl I was wishng I'd nevr been born and now I wudnt chanje places with an anjel!" That nyt a thoroly happy, completely tired-out Ann returnd to Green Gables in a state of beatification imposbl to describe. "O, Marilla, I'v had a perfectly scrumptious time. Scrumptious is a new word I lernd today. I herd Mary Alice Bel use it. Isnt it very expressiv? Everything was lovly. We had a splendid te and then Mr. Harmon Andrews took us al for a ro on th Lake of Shining Watrs--six of us at a time. And Jane Andrews nearly fel overbord. She was leanng out to pik watr lilis and if Mr. Andrews hadnt caut her by her sash just in th nik of time she'd falen in and prob'ly been drownd. I wish it had been me. It wud hav been such a romantic experience to hav been nearly drownd. It wud be such a thrilng tale to tel. And we had th ice cream. Words fail me to describe that ice cream. Marilla, I asure u it was sublime." That evenng Marilla told th hole story to Mathew over her stokng basket. "I'm wilng to own up that I made a mistake," she concluded candidly, "but I'v lernd a lesn. I hav to laf wen I think of Anne's `confession,' altho I supose I shudnt for it realy was a falshood. But it dosnt seem as bad as th othr wud hav been, somhow, and anyhow I'm responsbl for it. That child is hard to undrstand in som respects. But I beleve she'l turn out al ryt yet. And ther's one thing certn, no house wil evr be dul that she's in." CHAPTR XV A Tempest in th Scool Tepot "Wat a splendid day!" said Ann, drawng a long breth. "Isnt it good just to be alive on a day like this? I pity th peple ho arnt born yet for misng it. They may hav good days, of corse, but they can nevr hav this one. And it's splendider stil to hav such a lovly way to go to scool by, isnt it?" "It's a lot nicer than going round by th road; that is so dusty and hot," said Diana practicly, peepng into her dinr basket and mently calculating if th thre jucy, toothsome, rasbery tarts reposing ther wer divided among ten girls how many bites each girl wud hav. Th litl girls of Avonlea scool always poold ther lunchs, and to eat thre rasbery tarts al alone or even to share them only with one's best chum wud hav forevr and evr brandd as "awful mean" th girl ho did it. And yet, wen th tarts wer divided among ten girls u just got enuf to tantalize u. Th way Ann and Diana went to scool WAS a pretty one. Ann thot those walks to and from scool with Diana cudnt be improved upon even by imajnation. Going around by th main road wud hav been so unromantic; but to go by Lover's Lane and Willowmere and Violet Vale and th Birch Path was romantic, if evr anything was. Lover's Lane opend out belo th orchrd at Green Gables and strechd far up into th woods to th end of th Cuthbert farm. It was th way by wich th cows wer taken to th bak pastur and th wood hauld home in wintr. Ann had named it Lover's Lane befor she had been a month at Green Gables. "Not that lovrs evr realy walk ther," she explaind to Marilla, "but Diana and I ar readng a perfectly magnificent book and ther's a Lover's Lane in it. So we want to hav one, too. And it's a very pretty name, dont u think? So romantic! We cant imajn th lovrs into it, u no. I like that lane because u can think out loud ther without peple calng u crazy." Ann, startng out alone in th mornng, went down Lover's Lane as far as th brook. Here Diana met her, and th two litl girls went on up th lane undr th leafy arch of maples--"maples ar such sociabl tres," said Ann; "they'r always ruslng and wisprng to u"--until they came to a rustic brij. Then they left th lane and walkd thru Mr. Barry's bak field and past Willowmere. Beyond Willowmere came Violet Vale--a litl green dimpl in th shado of Mr. Andrew Bell's big woods. "Of corse ther ar no violets ther now," Ann told Marilla, "but Diana says ther ar milions of them in spring. O, Marilla, cant u just imajn u se them? It actuly takes away my breth. I named it Violet Vale. Diana says she nevr saw th beat of me for hitng on fancy names for places. It's nice to be clevr at somthing, isnt it? But Diana named th Birch Path. She wantd to, so I let her; but I'm sure I cud hav found somthing mor poeticl than plan Birch Path. Anybody can think of a name like that. But th Birch Path is one of th prettiest places in th world, Marilla." It was. Othr peple besides Ann thot so wen they stumbld on it. It was a litl naro, twistng path, windng down over a long hil strait thru Mr. Bell's woods, wher th lyt came down siftd thru so many emrld screens that it was as flawless as th hart of a diamnd. It was frinjd in al its length with slim yung birchs, wite stemd and lissom boughed; ferns and starflowers and wild lilis-of-th-vally and scarlet tufts of pigeonberries grew thikly along it; and always ther was a delytful spiciness in th air and music of bird cals and th murmr and laf of wood winds in th tres overhed. Now and then u myt se a rabit skipng across th road if u wer quiet--wich, with Ann and Diana, hapnd about once in a blu moon. Down in th vally th path came out to th main road and then it was just up th spruce hil to th scool. Th Avonlea scool was a witewashd bildng, lo in th eves and wide in th windos, furnishd inside with comfrtbl substantial old-fashnd desks that opend and shut, and wer carvd al over ther lids with th initials and hiroglyfics of thre jenrations of scool children. Th scoolhouse was set bak from th road and behind it was a dusky fir wood and a brook wher al th children put ther botls of milk in th mornng to keep cool and sweet until dinr our. Marilla had seen Ann start off to scool on th first day of Septembr with many secret misgivngs. Ann was such an od girl. How wud she get on with th othr children? And how on erth wud she evr manaj to hold her tong during scool ours? Things went betr than Marilla feard, howevr. Ann came home that evenng in hy spirits. "I think I'm going to like scool here," she anounced. "I dont think much of th mastr, thru. He's al th time curlng his mustach and making ys at Prissy Andrews. Prissy is grown up, u no. She's sixteen and she's studying for th entrnce examnation into Queen's Acadmy at Charlottetown next year. Tillie Boulter says th mastr is DED GON on her. She's got a butiful complexion and curly brown hair and she dos it up so elegntly. She sits in th long seat at th bak and he sits ther, too, most of th time--to explain her lesns, he says. But Ruby Gillis says she saw him riting somthing on her slate and wen Prissy red it she blushd as red as a beet and gigld; and Ruby Gillis says she dosnt beleve it had anything to do with th lesn." "Ann Shirly, dont let me hear u talkng about yr teachr in that way again," said Marilla sharply. "U dont go to scool to criticize th mastr. I gess he can teach U somthing, and it's yr busness to lern. And I want u to undrstand ryt off that u ar not to com home telng tales about him. That is somthing I wont encuraj. I hope u wer a good girl." "Indeed I was," said Ann comfrtbly. "It wasnt so hard as u myt imajn, eithr. I sit with Diana. Our seat is ryt by th windo and we can look down to th Lake of Shining Watrs. Ther ar a lot of nice girls in scool and we had scrumptious fun playng at dinrtime. It's so nice to hav a lot of litl girls to play with. But of corse I like Diana best and always wil. I ADOR Diana. I'm dredfuly far behind th othrs. They'r al in th fifth book and I'm only in th fourth. I feel that it's kind of a disgrace. But ther's not one of them has such an imajnation as I hav and I soon found that out. We had readng and jeografy and Canadian histry and dictation today. Mr. Phillips said my spelng was disgraceful and he held up my slate so that evrybody cud se it, al markd over. I felt so mortifyd, Marilla; he myt hav been politer to a stranjer, I think. Ruby Gillis gave me an apl and Sofia Sloane lent me a lovly pink card with `May I se u home?' on it. I'm to giv it bak to her tomoro. And Tillie Boulter let me wer her bead ring al th aftrnoon. Can I hav som of those perl beads off th old pincushion in th garet to make myself a ring? And o, Marilla, Jane Andrews told me that Minni Macpherson told her that she herd Prissy Andrews tel Sara Gillis that I had a very pretty nose. Marilla, that is th first complmnt I hav evr had in my life and u cant imajn wat a stranje feelng it gave me. Marilla, hav I realy a pretty nose? I no u'l tel me th truth." "Yr nose is wel enuf," said Marilla shortly. Secretly she thot Anne's nose was a remarkbl pretty one; but she had no intention of telng her so. That was thre weeks ago and al had gon smoothly so far. And now, this crisp Septembr mornng, Ann and Diana wer tripng blithely down th Birch Path, two of th happiest litl girls in Avonlea. "I gess Gilbrt Blythe wil be in scool today," said Diana. "He's been visitng his cusns over in New Brunswick al sumr and he only came home Satrday nyt. He's AW'FLY hansm, Ann. And he teses th girls somthing teribl. He just torments our lives out." Diana's voice indicated that she rathr liked havng her life tormentd out than not. "Gilbrt Blythe?" said Ann. "Isnt his name that's ritn up on th porch wal with Julia Bell's and a big `Take Notice' over them?" "Yes," said Diana, tosng her hed, "but I'm sure he dosnt like Julia Bel so very much. I'v herd him say he studid th multiplication table by her frekls." "O, dont speak about frekls to me," implord Ann. "It isnt delicat wen I'v got so many. But I do think that riting take-notices up on th wal about th boys and girls is th silliest evr. I shud just like to se anybody dare to rite my name up with a boy's. Not, of corse," she hasend to ad, "that anybody wud." Ann syd. She didnt want her name ritn up. But it was a litl humiliating to no that ther was no danjer of it. "Nonsnse," said Diana, hos blak ys and glossy tresses had playd such havoc with th harts of Avonlea scoolboys that her name figrd on th porch walls in half a dozn take-notices. "It's only ment as a joke. And dont u be too sure yr name wont evr be ritn up. Charli Sloane is DED GON on u. He told his mothr--his MOTHR, mind u--that u wer th smartst girl in scool. That's betr than being good lookng." "No, it isnt," said Ann, femnn to th cor. "I'd rathr be pretty than clevr. And I hate Charli Sloane, I cant ber a boy with gogl ys. If anyone rote my name up with his I'd nevr GET over it, Diana Barry. But it IS nice to keep hed of yr class." "U'l hav Gilbrt in yr class aftr this," said Diana, "and he's used to being hed of his class, I can tel u. He's only in th fourth book altho he's nearly forteen. Four years ago his fathr was sik and had to go out to Alberta for his helth and Gilbrt went with him. They wer ther thre years and Gil didnt go to scool hardly any until they came bak. U wont find it so esy to keep hed aftr this, Ann." "I'm glad," said Ann quikly. "I cudnt realy feel proud of keepng hed of litl boys and girls of just nine or ten. I got up yestrday spelng `ebullition.' Josi Pye was hed and, mind u, she peepd in her book. Mr. Phillips didnt se her--he was lookng at Prissy Andrews--but I did. I just swept her a look of frezing scorn and she got as red as a beet and speld it rong aftr al." "Those Pye girls ar cheats al round," said Diana indignntly, as they climbd th fence of th main road. "Gerti Pye actuly went and put her milk botl in my place in th brook yestrday. Did u evr? I dont speak to her now." Wen Mr. Phillips was in th bak of th room hearng Prissy Andrews's Latn, Diana wisprd to Ann, "That's Gilbrt Blythe sitng ryt across th ile from u, Ann. Just look at him and se if u dont think he's hansm." Ann lookd acordngly. She had a good chance to do so, for th said Gilbrt Blythe was absorbd in stelthily pinng th long yelo braid of Ruby Gillis, ho sat in front of him, to th bak of her seat. He was a tal boy, with curly brown hair, rogish hazel ys, and a mouth twistd into a tesing smile. Presntly Ruby Gillis startd up to take a sum to th mastr; she fel bak into her seat with a litl shriek, beleving that her hair was puld out by th roots. Evrybody lookd at her and Mr. Phillips glared so sternly that Ruby began to cry. Gilbrt had wiskd th pin out of syt and was studying his histry with th soberest face in th world; but wen th comotion subsided he lookd at Ann and winkd with inexpresbl drollery. "I think yr Gilbrt Blythe IS hansm," confided Ann to Diana, "but I think he's very bold. It isnt good manrs to wink at a stranje girl." But it was not until th aftrnoon that things realy began to hapn. Mr. Phillips was bak in th cornr explainng a problm in aljebra to Prissy Andrews and th rest of th scolrs wer doing pretty much as they plesed eatng green apls, wisprng, drawng picturs on ther slates, and driving crikets harnesd to strings, up and down ile. Gilbrt Blythe was tryng to make Ann Shirly look at him and failng utrly, because Ann was at that moment totaly oblivius not only to th very existnce of Gilbrt Blythe, but of evry othr scolr in Avonlea scool itself. With her chin propd on her hands and her ys fixd on th blu glimps of th Lake of Shining Watrs that th west windo afordd, she was far away in a gorjus dreamland hearng and seing nothing save her own wondrful visions. Gilbrt Blythe wasnt used to putng himself out to make a girl look at him and meetng with failur. She SHUD look at him, that red-haird Shirly girl with th litl pointd chin and th big ys that wernt like th ys of any othr girl in Avonlea scool. Gilbrt reachd across th ile, pikd up th end of Anne's long red braid, held it out at arm's length and said in a piercing wispr: "Carots! Carots!" Then Ann lookd at him with a venjnce! She did mor than look. She sprang to her feet, her bryt fancis falen into cureless ruin. She flashd one indignnt glance at Gilbrt from ys hos angry sparkl was swiftly quenchd in equaly angry tears. "U mean, hateful boy!" she exclaimd passionatly. "How dare u!" And then--thwack! Ann had brot her slate down on Gilbert's hed and crakd it--slate not hed--clear across. Avonlea scool always enjoyd a sene. This was an especialy enjoybl one. Evrybody said "O" in horifyd delyt. Diana gaspd. Ruby Gillis, ho was inclined to be hystericl, began to cry. Tommy Sloane let his team of crikets escape him altogethr wile he stared open-mouthd at th tablau. Mr. Phillips stalkd down th ile and laid his hand hevily on Anne's sholdr. "Ann Shirly, wat dos this mean?" he said angrily. Ann returnd no ansr. It was askng too much of flesh and blod to expect her to tel befor th hole scool that she had been cald "carots." Gilbrt it was ho spoke up stoutly. "It was my falt Mr. Phillips. I tesed her." Mr. Phillips paid no heed to Gilbrt. "I am sorry to se a pupil of mine displayng such a tempr and such a vindictiv spirit," he said in a solem tone, as if th mere fact of being a pupil of his ot to root out al evil passions from th harts of smal imperfect mortls. "Ann, go and stand on th platform in front of th blakbord for th rest of th aftrnoon." Ann wud hav infnitly preferd a wipng to this punishmnt undr wich her sensitiv spirit quivrd as from a whiplash. With a wite, set face she obeyd. Mr. Phillips took a chalk crayn and rote on th blakbord abov her hed. "Ann Shirly has a very bad tempr. Ann Shirly must lern to control her tempr," and then red it out loud so that even th primer class, ho cudnt red riting, shud undrstand it. Ann stood ther th rest of th aftrnoon with that lejnd abov her. She did not cry or hang her hed. Angr was stil too hot in her hart for that and it sustaind her amid al her agny of humiliation. With resentful ys and passion-red cheeks she confrontd alike Diana's sympathetic gaze and Charli Sloane's indignnt nods and Josi Pye's malicius smiles. As for Gilbrt Blythe, she wud not even look at him. She wud NEVR look at him again! She wud nevr speak to him!! Wen scool was dismisd Ann marchd out with her red hed held hy. Gilbrt Blythe tryd to intrcept her at th porch dor. "I'm awfuly sorry I made fun of yr hair, Ann," he wisprd contritely. "Onest I am. Dont be mad for keeps, now" Ann swept by disdainfuly, without look or syn of hearng. "O how cud u, Ann?" brethed Diana as they went down th road half reproachfuly, half admiringly. Diana felt that SHE cud nevr hav resistd Gilbert's ple. "I shal nevr forgiv Gilbrt Blythe," said Ann firmly. "And Mr. Phillips speld my name without an e, too. Th iron has entrd into my sol, Diana." Diana hadnt th least idea wat Ann ment but she undrstood it was somthing teribl. "U musnt mind Gilbrt making fun of yr hair," she said soothingly. "Wy, he makes fun of al th girls. He lafs at mine because it's so blak. He's cald me a cro a dozn times; and I nevr herd him apolojize for anything befor, eithr." "Ther's a gret deal of difrnce between being cald a cro and being cald carots," said Ann with dignity. "Gilbrt Blythe has hurt my feelngs EXCRUCIATINGLY, Diana." It is posbl th matr myt hav blown over without mor excruciation if nothing else had hapnd. But wen things begin to hapn they ar apt to keep on. Avonlea scolrs ofn spent noon our pikng gum in Mr. Bell's spruce grove over th hil and across his big pastur field. From ther they cud keep an y on Eben Wright's house, wher th mastr bordd. Wen they saw Mr. Phillips emerjng therefrom they ran for th scoolhouse; but th distnce being about thre times longr than Mr. Wright's lane they wer very apt to arive ther, brethless and gaspng, som thre minuts too late. On th foloing day Mr. Phillips was sezed with one of his spasmodic fits of reform and anounced befor going home to dinr, that he shud expect to find al th scolrs in ther seats wen he returnd. Anyone ho came in late wud be punishd. Al th boys and som of th girls went to Mr. Bell's spruce grove as usul, fuly intendng to stay only long enuf to "pik a chew." But spruce groves ar seductiv and yelo nuts of gum begiling; they pikd and loitrd and strayd; and as usul th first thing that recald them to a sense of th flyt of time was Jimmy Glovr shoutng from th top of a patriarcl old spruce "Master's comng." Th girls ho wer on th ground, startd first and manajd to reach th scoolhouse in time but without a secnd to spare. Th boys, ho had to rigl hastily down from th tres, wer later; and Ann, ho had not been pikng gum at al but was wandrng happily in th far end of th grove, waist deep among th brakn, singng softly to herself, with a reath of rice lilis on her hair as if she wer som wild divinity of th shadowy places, was latest of al. Ann cud run like a deer, howevr; run she did with th impish result that she overtook th boys at th dor and was swept into th scoolhouse among them just as Mr. Phillips was in th act of hangng up his hat. Mr. Phillips's brief reformng enrjy was over; he didnt want th bothr of punishng a dozn pupils; but it was necesry to do somthing to save his word, so he lookd about for a scapegoat and found it in Ann, ho had dropd into her seat, gaspng for breth, with a forgotn lily reath hangng askew over one ear and givng her a particulrly rakish and disheveled apearnce. "Ann Shirly, since u seem to be so fond of th boys' compny we shal indulj yr taste for it this aftrnoon," he said sarcasticly. "Take those flowrs out of yr hair and sit with Gilbrt Blythe." Th othr boys snikrd. Diana, turnng pale with pity, plukd th reath from Anne's hair and squezed her hand. Ann stared at th mastr as if turnd to stone. "Did u hear wat I said, Ann?" querid Mr. Phillips sternly. "Yes, sir," said Ann sloly "but I didnt supose u realy ment it." "I asure u I did"--stil with th sarcastic inflection wich al th children, and Ann especialy, hated. It flikd on th raw. "Obey me at once." For a moment Ann lookd as if she ment to disobey. Then, realizing that ther was no help for it, she rose hautily, stepd across th ile, sat down beside Gilbrt Blythe, and burid her face in her arms on th desk. Ruby Gillis, ho got a glimps of it as it went down, told th othrs going home from scool that she'd "acksually nevr seen anything like it--it was so wite, with awful litl red spots in it." To Ann, this was as th end of al things. It was bad enuf to be singld out for punishmnt from among a dozn equaly gilty ones; it was worse stil to be sent to sit with a boy, but that that boy shud be Gilbrt Blythe was heapng insult on injry to a degree utrly unberbl. Ann felt that she cud not ber it and it wud be of no use to try. Her hole being sethed with shame and angr and humiliation. At first th othr scolrs lookd and wisprd and gigld and nujd. But as Ann nevr liftd her hed and as Gilbrt workd fractions as if his hole sol was absorbd in them and them only, they soon returnd to ther own tasks and Ann was forgotn. Wen Mr. Phillips cald th histry class out Ann shud hav gon, but Ann did not move, and Mr. Phillips, ho had been riting som verses "To Prisila" befor he cald th class, was thinkng about an obstnat rym stil and nevr misd her. Once, wen nobody was lookng, Gilbrt took from his desk a litl pink candy hart with a gold moto on it, "U ar sweet," and slipd it undr th curv of Anne's arm. Wherupon Ann arose, took th pink hart jinjrly between th tips of her fingrs, dropd it on th flor, ground it to powdr beneath her heel, and resumed her position without deigning to besto a glance on Gilbrt. Wen scool went out Ann marchd to her desk, ostntatiusly took out everything therin, books and riting tablet, pen and ink, testmnt and arithmetic, and piled them neatly on her crakd slate. "Wat ar u taking al those things home for, Ann?" Diana wantd to no, as soon as they wer out on th road. She had not dared to ask th question befor. "I am not comng bak to scool any mor," said Ann. Diana gaspd and stared at Ann to se if she ment it. "Wil Marilla let u stay home?" she askd. "She'l hav to," said Ann. "I'l NEVR go to scool to that man again." "O, Ann!" Diana lookd as if she wer redy to cry. "I do think u'r mean. Wat shal I do? Mr. Phillips wil make me sit with that horid Gerti Pye--I no he wil because she is sitng alone. Do com bak, Ann." "I'd do almost anything in th world for u, Diana," said Ann sadly. "I'd let myself be torn lim from lim if it wud do u any good. But I cant do this, so plese dont ask it. U haro up my very sol." "Just think of al th fun u wil miss," mornd Diana. "We ar going to bild th lovliest new house down by th brook; and we'l be playng bal next week and u'v nevr playd bal, Ann. It's tremendusly exiting. And we'r going to lern a new song-- Jane Andrews is practisng it up now; and Alice Andrews is going to bring a new Pansy book next week and we'r al going to red it out loud, chaptr about, down by th brook. And u no u ar so fond of readng out loud, Ann." Nothing moved Ann in th least. Her mind was made up. She wud not go to scool to Mr. Phillips again; she told Marilla so wen she got home. "Nonsnse," said Marilla. "It isnt nonsnse at al," said Ann, gazing at Marilla with solem, reproachful ys. "Dont u undrstand, Marilla? I'v been insultd." "Insultd fiddlesticks! U'l go to scool tomoro as usul." "O, no." Ann shook her hed jently. "I'm not going bak, Marilla. "I'l lern my lesns at home and I'l be as good as I can be and hold my tong al th time if it's posbl at al. But I wil not go bak to scool, I asure u." Marilla saw somthing remarkbly like unyieldng stubrness lookng out of Anne's smal face. She undrstood that she wud hav trubl in overcomng it; but she re-solvd wisely to say nothing mor just then. "I'l run down and se Rachel about it this evenng," she thot. "Ther's no use reasnng with Ann now. She's too workd up and I'v an idea she can be awful stubrn if she takes th notion. Far as I can make out from her story, Mr. Phillips has been carrying matrs with a rathr hy hand. But it wud nevr do to say so to her. I'l just talk it over with Rachel. She's sent ten children to scool and she ot to no somthing about it. She'l hav herd th hole story, too, by this time." Marilla found Mrs. Lynde nitng quilts as industriusly and cheerfuly as usul. "I supose u no wat I'v com about," she said, a litl shamefacedly. Mrs. Rachel nodd. "About Anne's fuss in scool, I rekn," she said. "Tillie Boulter was in on her way home from scool and told me about it." "I dont no wat to do with her," said Marilla. "She declares she wont go bak to scool. I nevr saw a child so workd up. I'v been expectng trubl evr since she startd to scool. I new things wer going too smooth to last. She's so hy strung. Wat wud u advise, Rachel?" "Wel, since u'v askd my advice, Marilla," said Mrs. Lynde amiably--Mrs. Lynde dearly lovd to be askd for advice--"I'd just humor her a litl at first, that's wat I'd do. It's my belief that Mr. Phillips was in th rong. Of corse, it dosnt do to say so to th children, u no. And of corse he did ryt to punish her yestrday for givng way to tempr. But today it was difrnt. Th othrs ho wer late shud hav been punishd as wel as Ann, that's wat. And I dont beleve in making th girls sit with th boys for punishmnt. It isnt modest. Tillie Boulter was real indignnt. She took Anne's part ryt thru and said al th scolrs did too. Ann seems real populr among them, somhow. I nevr thot she'd take with them so wel." "Then u realy think I'd betr let her stay home," said Marilla in amazemnt. "Yes. That is I wudnt say scool to her again until she said it herself. Depend upon it, Marilla, she'l cool off in a week or so and be redy enuf to go bak of her own acord, that's wat, wile, if u wer to make her go bak ryt off, dear nos wat freak or tantrm she'd take next and make mor trubl than evr. Th less fuss made th betr, in my opinion. She wont miss much by not going to scool, as far as THAT gos. Mr. Phillips isnt any good at al as a teachr. Th ordr he keeps is scandlus, that's wat, and he neglects th yung fry and puts al his time on those big scolrs he's getng redy for Queen's. He'd nevr hav got th scool for anothr year if his uncl hadnt been a trustee--TH trustee, for he just leads th othr two around by th nose, that's wat. I declare, I dont no wat education in this Iland is comng to." Mrs. Rachel shook her hed, as much as to say if she wer only at th hed of th educationl systm of th Provnce things wud be much betr manajd. Marilla took Mrs. Rachel's advice and not anothr word was said to Ann about going bak to scool. She lernd her lesns at home, did her chors, and playd with Diana in th chilly purpl autm twilights; but wen she met Gilbrt Blythe on th road or encountrd him in Sunday scool she pasd him by with an icy contemt that was no wit thawd by his evidnt desire to apese her. Even Diana's efrts as a pecemaker wer of no avail. Ann had evidntly made up her mind to hate Gilbrt Blythe to th end of life. As much as she hated Gilbrt, howevr, did she lov Diana, with al th lov of her passionat litl hart, equaly intense in its likes and dislikes. One evenng Marilla, comng in from th orchrd with a basket of apls, found Ann sitng along by th east windo in th twilyt, cryng bitrly. "Watevr's th matr now, Ann?" she askd. "It's about Diana," sobd Ann luxuriusly. "I lov Diana so, Marilla. I canot evr liv without her. But I no very wel wen we gro up that Diana wil get marrid and go away and leve me. And o, wat shal I do? I hate her husbnd--I just hate him furiusly. I'v been imajnng it al out--th wedng and everything--Diana dresd in snowy garmnts, with a veil, and lookng as butiful and regal as a queen; and me th bridesmaid, with a lovly dress too, and pufd sleves, but with a brekng hart hid beneath my smiling face. And then bidng Diana goodby-e-e--" Here Ann broke down entirely and wept with incresing bitrness. Marilla turnd quikly away to hide her twichng face; but it was no use; she colapsd on th nearst chair and burst into such a harty and unusul peal of laftr that Mathew, crosng th yard outside, haltd in amazemnt. Wen had he herd Marilla laf like that befor? "Wel, Ann Shirly," said Marilla as soon as she cud speak, "if u must boro trubl, for pity's sake boro it handier home. I shud think u had an imajnation, sure enuf." CHAPTR XVI Diana Is Invited to Te with Trajic Results OCTOBER was a butiful month at Green Gables, wen th birchs in th holo turnd as goldn as sunshine and th maples behind th orchrd wer royl crimsn and th wild cherry tres along th lane put on th lovliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, wile th fields sunned themselvs in aftermaths. Ann reveled in th world of color about her. "O, Marilla," she exclaimd one Satrday mornng, comng dancing in with her arms ful of gorjus bous" 'i'm so glad I liv in a world wher ther ar Octobers. It wud be teribl if we just skipd from Septembr to Novembr, wudnt it? Look at these maple branchs. Dont they giv u a thril--sevrl thrils? I'm going to decrate my room with them." "Messy things," said Marilla, hos esthetic sense was not noticebly developd. "U clutr up yr room entirely too much with out-of-dors stuf, Ann. Bedrooms wer made to sleep in." "O, and dream in too, Marilla. And u no one can dream so much betr in a room wher ther ar pretty things. I'm going to put these bous in th old blu jug and set them on my table." "Mind u dont drop leavs al over th stairs then. I'm going on a meetng of th Aid Society at Carmody this aftrnoon, Ann, and I wont likely be home befor dark. U'l hav to get Mathew and Jerry ther supr, so mind u dont forget to put th te to draw until u sit down at th table as u did last time." "It was dredful of me to forget," said Ann apolojeticly, "but that was th aftrnoon I was tryng to think of a name for Violet Vale and it crowdd othr things out. Mathew was so good. He nevr scoldd a bit. He put th te down himself and said we cud wait awile as wel as not. And I told him a lovly fairy story wile we wer waitng, so he didnt find th time long at al. It was a butiful fairy story, Marilla. I forgot th end of it, so I made up an end for it myself and Mathew said he cudnt tel wher th join came in." "Mathew wud think it al ryt, Ann, if u took a notion to get up and hav dinr in th midl of th nyt. But u keep yr wits about u this time. And--I dont realy no if I'm doing ryt--it may make u mor addlepated than evr--but u can ask Diana to com over and spend th aftrnoon with u and hav te here." "O, Marilla!" Ann claspd her hands. "How perfectly lovly! U AR able to imajn things aftr al or else u'd nevr hav undrstood how I'v longd for that very thing. It wil seem so nice and grown-uppish. No fear of my forgetng to put th te to draw wen I hav compny. O, Marilla, can I use th rosebud spray te set?" "No, indeed! Th rosebud te set! Wel, wat next? U no I nevr use that exept for th ministr or th Aids. U'l put down th old brown te set. But u can open th litl yelo crok of cherry preservs. It's time it was being used anyhow--I beleve it's beginng to work. And u can cut som fruit cake and hav som of th cookis and snaps." "I can just imajn myself sitng down at th hed of th table and porng out th te," said Ann, shutng her ys ecstaticly. "And askng Diana if she takes sugr! I no she dosnt but of corse I'l ask her just as if I didnt no. And then presng her to take anothr pece of fruit cake and anothr helpng of preservs. O, Marilla, it's a wondrful sensation just to think of it. Can I take her into th spare room to lay off her hat wen she coms? And then into th parlr to sit?" "No. Th sitng room wil do for u and yr compny. But ther's a botl half ful of rasbery cordial that was left over from th church social th othr nyt. It's on th secnd shelf of th sitng-room closet and u and Diana can hav it if u like, and a cooky to eat with it along in th aftrnoon, for I daresay Matthew'll be late comng in to te since he's haulng potatos to th vesl." Ann flew down to th holo, past th Dryad's Bubl and up th spruce path to Orchrd Slope, to ask Diana to te. As a result just aftr Marilla had drivn off to Carmody, Diana came over, dresd in HER secnd-best dress and lookng exactly as it is propr to look wen askd out to te. At othr times she was wont to run into th kichn without nokng; but now she nokd primly at th front dor. And wen Ann, dresd in her secnd best, as primly opend it, both litl girls shook hands as gravely as if they had nevr met befor. This unatrl solemnity lastd until aftr Diana had been taken to th east gable to lay off her hat and then had sat for ten minuts in th sitng room, toes in position. "How is yr mothr?" inquired Ann politely, just as if she had not seen Mrs. Barry pikng apls that mornng in exlnt helth and spirits. "She is very wel, thank u. I supose Mr. Cuthbert is haulng potatos to th LILY SANDS this aftrnoon, is he?" said Diana, ho had ridn down to Mr. Harmon Andrews's that mornng in Matthew's cart. "Yes. Our potato crop is very good this year. I hope yr father's crop is good too." "It is fairly good, thank u. Hav u pikd many of yr apls yet?" "O, evr so many," said Ann forgetng to be dignifyd and jumpng up quikly. "Let's go out to th orchrd and get som of th Red Sweetings, Diana. Marilla says we can hav al that ar left on th tre. Marilla is a very jenrus womn. She said we cud hav fruit cake and cherry preservs for te. But it isnt good manrs to tel yr compny wat u ar going to giv them to eat, so I wont tel u wat she said we cud hav to drink. Only it begins with an R and a C and it's bryt red color. I lov bryt red drinks, dont u? They taste twice as good as any othr color." Th orchrd, with its gret sweepng bous that bent to th ground with fruit, proved so delytful that th litl girls spent most of th aftrnoon in it, sitng in a grassy cornr wher th frost had spared th green and th melo autm sunshine lingrd warmly, eatng apls and talkng as hard as they cud. Diana had much to tel Ann of wat went on in scool. She had to sit with Gerti Pye and she hated it; Gerti squeakd her pencil al th time and it just made her--Diana's--blod run cold; Ruby Gillis had charmd al her warts away, true's u liv, with a majic pebl that old Mary Jo from th Creek gave her. U had to rub th warts with th pebl and then thro it away over yr left sholdr at th time of th new moon and th warts wud al go. Charli Sloane's name was ritn up with Em White's on th porch wal and Em Wite was AWFUL MAD about it; Sam Boulter had "sassed" Mr. Phillips in class and Mr. Phillips wipd him and Sam's fathr came down to th scool and dared Mr. Phillips to lay a hand on one of his children again; and Mattie Andrews had a new red hood and a blu crossover with tasls on it and th airs she put on about it wer perfectly siknng; and Lizzi Ryt didnt speak to Mamie Wilson because Mamie Wilson's grown-up sistr had cut out Lizzi Wright's grown-up sistr with her bau; and evrybody misd Ann so and wishd she's com to scool again; and Gilbrt Blythe-- But Ann didnt want to hear about Gilbrt Blythe. She jumpd up hurridly and said supose they go in and hav som rasbery cordial. Ann lookd on th secnd shelf of th room pantry but ther was no botl of rasbery cordial ther . Serch reveald it away bak on th top shelf. Ann put it on a tray and set it on th table with a tumblr. "Now, plese help yrself, Diana," she said politely. "I dont beleve I'l hav any just now. I dont feel as if I wantd any aftr al those apls." Diana pord herself out a tumblerful, lookd at its bryt-red hu admiringly, and then sipd it daintily. "That's awfuly nice rasbery cordial, Ann," she said. "I didnt no rasbery cordial was so nice." "I'm real glad u like it. Take as much as u want. I'm going to run out and stir th fire up. Ther ar so many responsbilitis on a person's mind wen they'r keepng house, isnt ther?" Wen Ann came bak from th kichn Diana was drinkng her secnd glassful of cordial; and, being entreated thereto by Ann, she ofrd no particulr objection to th drinkng of a third. Th tumblerfuls wer jenrus ones and th rasbery cordial was certnly very nice. "Th nicest I evr drank," said Diana. "It's evr so much nicer than Mrs. Lynde's, altho she brags of hers so much. It dosnt taste a bit like hers." "I shud think Marilla's rasbery cordial wud prob'ly be much nicer than Mrs. Lynde's," said Ann loyly. "Marilla is a famus cook. She is tryng to teach me to cook but I asure u, Diana, it is uphil work. Ther's so litl scope for imajnation in cookry. U just hav to go by rules. Th last time I made a cake I forgot to put th flour in. I was thinkng th lovliest story about u and me, Diana. I thot u wer despratly il with smalpox and evrybody desertd u, but I went boldly to yr bedside and nursd u bak to life; and then I took th smalpox and died and I was burid undr those poplr tres in th graveyard and u plantd a rosebush by my grave and watrd it with yr tears; and u nevr, nevr forgot th frend of yr yuth ho sacrificed her life for u. O, it was such a pathetic tale, Diana. Th tears just raind down over my cheeks wile I mixd th cake. But I forgot th flour and th cake was a disml failur. Flour is so esential to cakes, u no. Marilla was very cross and I dont wondr. I'm a gret trial to her. She was teribly mortifyd about th pudng sauce last week. We had a plum pudng for dinr on Tuesday and ther was half th pudng and a pitcherful of sauce left over. Marilla said ther was enuf for anothr dinr and told me to set it on th pantry shelf and covr it. I ment to covr it just as much as cud be, Diana, but wen I carrid it in I was imajnng I was a nun--of corse I'm a Protestnt but I imajnd I was a Cathlic--taking th veil to bury a broken hart in cloistrd seclusion; and I forgot al about covrng th pudng sauce. I thot of it next mornng and ran to th pantry. Diana, fancy if u can my extreme horr at findng a mouse drownd in that pudng sauce! I liftd th mouse out with a spoon and threw it out in th yard and then I washd th spoon in thre watrs. Marilla was out milkng and I fuly intendd to ask her wen she came in if I'd giv th sauce to th pigs; but wen she did com in I was imajnng that I was a frost fairy going thru th woods turnng th tres red and yelo, wichevr they wantd to be, so I nevr thot about th pudng sauce again and Marilla sent me out to pik apls. Wel, Mr. and Mrs. Chestr Ross from Spencervale came here that mornng. U no they ar very stylish peple, especialy Mrs. Chestr Ross. Wen Marilla cald me in dinr was al redy and evrybody was at th table. I tryd to be as polite and dignifyd as I cud be, for I wantd Mrs. Chestr Ross to think I was a ladylike litl girl even if I wasnt pretty. Everything went ryt until I saw Marilla comng with th plum pudng in one hand and th pichr of pudng sauce WARMD UP, in th othr. Diana, that was a teribl moment. I remembrd everything and I just stood up in my place and shriekd out `Marilla, u musnt use that pudng sauce. Ther was a mouse drownd in it. I forgot to tel u befor.' O, Diana, I shal nevr forget that awful moment if I liv to be a hundred. Mrs. Chestr Ross just LOOKD at me and I thot I wud sink thru th flor with mortification. She is such a perfect houskeepr and fancy wat she must hav thot of us. Marilla turnd red as fire but she nevr said a word--then. She just carrid that sauce and pudng out and brot in som strawbry preservs. She even ofrd me som, but I cudnt swalo a mouthful. It was like heapng coals of fire on my hed. Aftr Mrs. Chestr Ross went away, Marilla gave me a dredful scoldng. Wy, Diana, wat is th matr?" Diana had stood up very unstedily; then she sat down again, putng her hands to her hed. "I'm--I'm awful sik," she said, a litl thikly. "I--I--must go ryt home." "O, u musnt dream of going home without yr te," cryd Ann in distress. "I'l get it ryt off--I'l go and put th te down this very minut." "I must go home," repeatd Diana, stupidly but determndly. "Let me get u a lunch anyhow," implord Ann. "Let me giv u a bit of fruit cake and som of th cherry preservs. Lie down on th sofa for a litl wile and u'l be betr. Wher do u feel bad?" "I must go home," said Diana, and that was al she wud say. In vain Ann pleadd. "I nevr herd of compny going home without te," she mornd. "O, Diana, do u supose that it's posbl u'r realy taking th smalpox? If u ar I'l go and nurse u, u can depend on that. I'l nevr forsake u. But I do wish u'd stay til aftr te. Wher do u feel bad?" "I'm awful dizzy," said Diana. And indeed, she walkd very dizzily. Ann, with tears of disapointmnt in her ys, got Diana's hat and went with her as far as th Barry yard fence. Then she wept al th way bak to Green Gables, wher she sorofuly put th remaindr of th rasbery cordial bak into th pantry and got te redy for Mathew and Jerry, with al th zest gon out of th performnce. Th next day was Sunday and as th rain pord down in torents from dawn til dusk Ann did not stir abrod from Green Gables. Monday aftrnoon Marilla sent her down to Mrs. Lynde's on an erand. In a very short space of time Ann came flyng bak up th lane with tears rolng down her cheeks. Into th kichn she dashd and flung herself face downwrd on th sofa in an agny. "Watevr has gon rong now, Ann?" querid Marilla in dout and dismay. "I do hope u havnt gon and been saucy to Mrs. Lynde again." No ansr from Ann save mor tears and stormier sobs! "Ann Shirly, wen I ask u a question I want to be ansrd. Sit ryt up this very minut and tel me wat u ar cryng about." Ann sat up, trajedy personifyd. "Mrs. Lynde was up to se Mrs. Barry today and Mrs. Barry was in an awful state," she waild. "She says that I set Diana DRUNK Satrday and sent her home in a disgraceful condition. And she says I must be a thoroly bad, wiked litl girl and she's nevr, nevr going to let Diana play with me again. O, Marilla, I'm just overcom with wo." Marilla stared in blank amazemnt. "Set Diana drunk!" she said wen she found her voice. "Ann ar u or Mrs. Barry crazy? Wat on erth did u giv her?" "Not a thing but rasbery cordial," sobd Ann. "I nevr thot rasbery cordial wud set peple drunk, Marilla--not even if they drank thre big tumblerfuls as Diana did. O, it sounds so--so--like Mrs. Thomas's husbnd! But I didnt mean to set her drunk." "Drunk fiddlesticks!" said Marilla, marchng to th sitng room pantry. Ther on th shelf was a botl wich she at once recognized as one containng som of her thre-year-old homemade curant wine for wich she was celebrated in Avonlea, altho certn of th strictr sort, Mrs. Barry among them, disaproved strongly of it. And at th same time Marilla reclectd that she had put th botl of rasbery cordial down in th celr insted of in th pantry as she had told Ann. She went bak to th kichn with th wine botl in her hand. Her face was twichng in spite of herself. "Ann, u certnly hav a jenius for getng into trubl. U went and gave Diana curant wine insted of rasbery cordial. Didnt u no th difrnce yrself?" "I nevr tasted it," said Ann. "I thot it was th cordial. I ment to be so--so--hospitbl. Diana got awfuly sik and had to go home. Mrs. Barry told Mrs. Lynde she was simply ded drunk. She just lafd silly-like wen her mothr askd her wat was th matr and went to sleep and slept for ours. Her mothr smeld her breth and new she was drunk. She had a fearful hedache al day yestrday. Mrs. Barry is so indignnt. She wil nevr beleve but wat I did it on purpos." "I shud think she wud betr punish Diana for being so greedy as to drink thre glassfuls of anything," said Marilla shortly. "Wy, thre of those big glasses wud hav made her sik even if it had only been cordial. Wel, this story wil be a nice handl for those folks ho ar so down on me for making curant wine, altho I havnt made any for thre years evr since I found out that th ministr didnt aprove. I just kept that botl for sikness. Ther, ther, child, dont cry. I cant se as u wer to blame altho I'm sorry it hapnd so." "I must cry," said Ann. "My hart is broken. Th stars in ther corses fyt against me, Marilla. Diana and I ar partd forevr. O, Marilla, I litl dreamd of this wen first we swor our vows of frendship." "Dont be foolish, Ann. Mrs. Barry wil think betr of it wen she finds u'r not to blame. I supose she thinks u'v don it for a silly joke or somthing of that sort. U'd best go up this evenng and tel her how it was." "My curaj fails me at th thot of facing Diana's injrd mothr," syd Ann. "I wish u'd go, Marilla. U'r so much mor dignifyd than I am. Likely she'd lisn to u quikr than to me." "Wel, I wil," said Marilla, reflectng that it wud probbly be th wiser corse. "Dont cry any mor, Ann. It wil be al ryt." Marilla had chanjed her mind about it being al ryt by th time she got bak from Orchrd Slope. Ann was wachng for her comng and flew to th porch dor to meet her. "O, Marilla, I no by yr face that it's been no use," she said sorofuly. "Mrs. Barry wont forgiv me?" "Mrs. Barry indeed!" snapd Marilla. "Of al th unreasnbl women I evr saw she's th worst. I told her it was al a mistake and u wernt to blame, but she just simply didnt beleve me. And she rubd it wel in about my curant wine and how I'd always said it cudnt hav th least efect on anybody. I just told her plainly that curant wine wasnt ment to be drunk thre tumblerfuls at a time and that if a child I had to do with was so greedy I'd sober her up with a ryt good spankng." Marilla wiskd into th kichn, grevusly disturbd, leving a very much distractd litl sol in th porch behind her. Presntly Ann stepd out barehedd into th chil autm dusk; very determndly and stedily she took her way down thru th sere clover field over th log brij and up thru th spruce grove, lytd by a pale litl moon hangng lo over th westrn woods. Mrs. Barry, comng to th dor in ansr to a timid nok, found a wite-lipped eagr-yd supliant on th dorstep. Her face hardnd. Mrs. Barry was a womn of strong prejudices and dislikes, and her angr was of th cold, sulen sort wich is always hardst to overcom. To do her justice, she realy beleved Ann had made Diana drunk out of sheer malice prepense,??? and she was onestly anxius to preserv her litl dautr from th contamnation of furthr intmacy with such a child. "Wat do u want?" she said stifly. Ann claspd her hands. "O, Mrs. Barry, plese forgiv me. I did not mean to--to--intoxicate Diana. How cud I? Just imajn if u wer a poor litl orfn girl that kind peple had adoptd and u had just one bosm frend in al th world. Do u think u wud intoxicate her on purpos? I thot it was only rasbery cordial. I was firmly convinced it was rasbery cordial. O, plese dont say that u wont let Diana play with me any mor. If u do u wil covr my life with a dark cloud of wo." This speech wich wud hav sofnd good Mrs. Lynde's hart in a twinklng, had no efect on Mrs. Barry exept to iritate her stil mor. She was suspicius of Anne's big words and dramatic jesturs and imajnd that th child was making fun of her. So she said, coldly and cruely: "I dont think u ar a fit litl girl for Diana to asociate with. U'd betr go home and behave yrself." Anne's lips quivrd. "Wont u let me se Diana just once to say farewel?" she implord. "Diana has gon over to Carmody with her fathr," said Mrs. Barry, going in and shutng th dor. Ann went bak to Green Gables calm with despair. "My last hope is gon," she told Marilla. "I went up and saw Mrs. Barry myself and she treatd me very insultngly. Marilla, I do NOT think she is a wel-bred womn. Ther is nothing mor to do exept to pray and I havnt much hope that that'l do much good because, Marilla, I do not beleve that God Himself can do very much with such an obstnat persn as Mrs. Barry." "Ann, u shudnt say such things" rebuked Marilla, striving to overcom that unholy tendncy to laftr wich she was dismayd to find groing upon her. And indeed, wen she told th hole story to Mathew that nyt, she did laf hartily over Anne's tribulations. But wen she slipd into th east gable befor going to bed and found that Ann had cryd herself to sleep an unacustmd softness crept into her face. "Poor litl sol," she murmrd, liftng a loose curl of hair from th child's tear-staind face. Then she bent down and kisd th flushd cheek on th pilo. CHAPTR XVII A New Intrest in Life TH next aftrnoon Ann, bendng over her pachwork at th kichn windo, hapnd to glance out and beheld Diana down by th Dryad's Bubl beknng mysteriusly. In a trice Ann was out of th house and flyng down to th holo, astonishmnt and hope struglng in her expressiv ys. But th hope faded wen she saw Diana's dejectd countnnce. "Yr mothr hasnt relentd?" she gaspd. Diana shook her hed mornfuly. "No; and o, Ann, she says I'm nevr to play with u again. I'v cryd and cryd and I told her it wasnt yr falt, but it wasnt any use. I had evr such a time coaxng her to let me com down and say good-by to u. She said I was only to stay ten minuts and she's timing me by th clok." "Ten minuts isnt very long to say an eternl farewel in," said Ann tearfuly. "O, Diana, wil u promis faithfuly nevr to forget me, th frend of yr yuth, no matr wat dearr frends may caress thee?" "Indeed I wil," sobd Diana, "and I'l nevr hav anothr bosm frend--I dont want to hav. I cudnt lov anybody as I lov u." "O, Diana," cryd Ann, claspng her hands, "do u LOV me?" "Wy, of corse I do. Didnt u no that?" "No." Ann drew a long breth. "I thot u LIKED me of corse but I nevr hoped u LOVD me. Wy, Diana, I didnt think anybody cud lov me. Nobody evr has lovd me since I can remembr. O, this is wondrful! It's a ray of lyt wich wil forevr shine on th darkns of a path sevrd from thee, Diana. O, just say it once again." "I lov u devotedly, Ann," said Diana stanchly, "and I always wil, u may be sure of that." "And I wil always lov thee, Diana," said Ann, solemly extendng her hand. "In th years to com thy memry wil shine like a star over my lonely life, as that last story we red togethr says. Diana, wilt thou giv me a lok of thy jet-blak tresses in partng to tresur forevermore?" "Hav u got anything to cut it with?" querid Diana, wiping away th tears wich Anne's afectng accents had causd to flo afresh, and returng to practicalitis. "Yes. I'v got my pachwork sisrs in my apron poket fortunatly," said Ann. She solemly clipd one of Diana's curls. "Fare thee wel, my beloved frend. Henceforth we must be as stranjers tho livng side by side. But my hart wil evr be faithful to thee." Ann stood and wachd Diana out of syt, mornfuly waving her hand to th latr wenevr she turnd to look bak. Then she returnd to th house, not a litl consoled for th time being by this romantic partng. "It is al over," she informd Marilla. "I shal nevr hav anothr frend. I'm realy worse off than evr befor, for I havnt Kati Maurice and Violetta now. And even if I had it wudnt be th same. Somhow, litl dream girls ar not satisfyng aftr a real frend. Diana and I had such an afectng farewel down by th spring. It wil be sacred in my memry forevr. I used th most pathetic languaj I cud think of and said `thou' and `thee.' `Thou' and `thee' seem so much mor romantic than `u.' Diana gave me a lok of her hair and I'm going to sew it up in a litl bag and wer it around my nek al my life. Plese se that it is burid with me, for I dont beleve I'l liv very long. Perhaps wen she ses me lyng cold and ded befor her Mrs. Barry may feel remorse for wat she has don and wil let Diana com to my funeral." "I dont think ther is much fear of yr dyng of grief as long as u can talk, Ann," said Marilla unsympathetically. Th foloing Monday Ann surprised Marilla by comng down from her room with her basket of books on her arm and hip??? lips primmed up into a line of determnation. "I'm going bak to scool," she anounced. "That is al ther is left in life for me, now that my frend has been ruthlesly torn from me. In scool I can look at her and muse over days departd." "U'd betr muse over yr lesns and sums," said Marilla, concealng her delyt at this developmnt of th situation. "If u'r going bak to scool I hope we'l hear no mor of brekng slates over people's heds and such carryings on. Behave yrself and do just wat yr teachr tels u." "I'l try to be a modl pupil," agreed Ann dolefuly. "Ther wont be much fun in it, I expect. Mr. Phillips said Minni Andrews was a modl pupil and ther isnt a spark of imajnation or life in her. She is just dul and poky and nevr seems to hav a good time. But I feel so depresd that perhaps it wil com esy to me now. I'm going round by th road. I cudnt ber to go by th Birch Path al alone. I shud weep bitr tears if I did." Ann was welcmd bak to scool with open arms. Her imajnation had been sorly misd in games, her voice in th singng and her dramatic ability in th perusal aloud of books at dinr our. Ruby Gillis smugld thre blu plums over to her during testmnt readng; Ella May Macpherson gave her an enormus yelo pansy cut from th covrs of a floral catlog--a species of desk decration much prized in Avonlea scool. Sofia Sloane ofrd to teach her a perfectly elegnt new patrn of nit lace, so nice for trimng aprons. Kati Boulter gave her a perfume botl to keep slate watr in, and Julia Bel copid carefuly on a pece of pale pink paper scalopd on th ejs th foloing effusion: Wen twilyt drops her curtn down And pins it with a star Remembr that u hav a frend Tho she may wandr far. "It's so nice to be apreciated," syd Ann rapturusly to Marilla that nyt. Th girls wer not th only scolrs ho "apreciated" her. Wen Ann went to her seat aftr dinr our--she had been told by Mr. Phillips to sit with th modl Minni Andrews--she found on her desk a big luscius "strawbry apl." Ann caut it up al redy to take a bite wen she remembrd that th only place in Avonlea wher strawbry apls grew was in th old Blythe orchrd on th othr side of th Lake of Shining Watrs. Ann dropd th apl as if it wer a red-hot coal and ostntatiusly wiped her fingrs on her hankrchief. Th apl lay untuchd on her desk until th next mornng, wen litl Timothy Andrews, ho swept th scool and kindld th fire, anexd it as one of his perquisits. Charli Sloane's slate pencil, gorjusly bedizened with striped red and yelo paper, costng two cents wher ordnry pencils cost only one, wich he sent up to her aftr dinr our, met with a mor favorabl reception. Ann was graciusly plesed to accept it and rewardd th donor with a smile wich exaltd that infatuated yuth straitway into th sevnth hevn of delyt and causd him to make such fearful errs in his dictation that Mr. Phillips kept him in aftr scool to rewrite it. But as, Th Caesar's pajnt shorn of Brutus' bust Did but of Rome's best son remind her mor. so th markd absnce of any tribute or recognition from Diana Barry ho was sitng with Gerti Pye embitrd Anne's litl triumf. "Diana myt just hav smiled at me once, I think," she mornd to Marilla that nyt. But th next mornng a note most fearfuly and wondrfuly twistd and foldd, and a smal parcel wer pasd across to Ann. Dear Ann (ran th formr) Mothr says I'm not to play with u or talk to u even in scool. It isnt my falt and dont be cross at me, because I lov u as much as evr. I miss u awfuly to tel al my secrets to and I dont like Gerti Pye one bit. I made u one of th new bookmarkers out of red tissu paper. They ar awfuly fashnbl now and only thre girls in scool no how to make them. Wen u look at it remembr Yr tru frend Diana Barry. Ann red th note, kisd th bookmark, and dispachd a promt reply bak to th othr side of th scool. My own darlng Diana:-- Of corse I am not cross at u because u hav to obey yr mothr. Our spirits can comune. I shal keep yr lovly presnt forevr. Minni Andrews is a very nice litl girl--altho she has no imajnation--but aftr havng been Diana's busum frend I canot be Minnie's. Plese excuse mistakes because my spelng isnt very good yet, altho much improoved. Yrs until deth us do part Ann or Cordelia Shirly. P.S. I shal sleep with yr letr undr my pilo tonyt. A. OR C.S. Marilla pessimistically expectd mor trubl since Ann had again begun to go to scool. But non developd. Perhaps Ann caut somthing of th "modl" spirit from Minni Andrews; at least she got on very wel with Mr. Phillips thenceforth. She flung herself into her studis hart and sol, determnd not to be outdon in any class by Gilbrt Blythe. Th rivalry between them was soon aparent; it was entirely good naturd on Gilbert's side; but it is much to be feard that th same thing canot be said of Ann, ho had certnly an unpraiseworthy tenacity for holdng grujs. She was as intense in her hatreds as in her lovs. She wud not stoop to admit that she ment to rival Gilbrt in scoolwork, because that wud hav been to aknolej his existnce wich Ann persistntly ignord; but th rivalry was ther and honors fluctuated between them. Now Gilbrt was hed of th spelng class; now Ann, with a toss of her long red braids, speld him down. One mornng Gilbrt had al his sums don corectly and had his name ritn on th blakbord on th rol of onr; th next mornng Ann, havng resld wildly with decimals th entire evenng befor, wud be first. One awful day they wer ties and ther names wer ritn up togethr. It was almost as bad as a take-notice and Anne's mortification was as evidnt as Gilbert's satisfaction. Wen th ritn examnations at th end of each month wer held th suspense was teribl. Th first month Gilbrt came out thre marks ahed. Th secnd Ann beat him by five. But her triumf was mard by th fact that Gilbrt congratulated her hartily befor th hole scool. It wud hav been evr so much sweetr to her if he had felt th sting of his defeat. Mr. Phillips myt not be a very good teachr; but a pupil so inflexibly determnd on lernng as Ann was cud hardly escape making progress undr any kind of teachr. By th end of th term Ann and Gilbrt wer both promoted into th fifth class and alowd to begin studying th elemnts of "th branchs"--by wich Latn, jeometry, French, and aljebra wer ment. In jeometry Ann met her Watrloo. "It's perfectly awful stuf, Marilla," she groand. "I'm sure I'l nevr be able to make hed or tail of it. Ther is no scope for imajnation in it at al. Mr. Phillips says I'm th worst dunce he evr saw at it. And Gil--I mean som of th othrs ar so smart at it. It is extremely mortifyng, Marilla. Even Diana gets along betr than I do. But I dont mind being beatn by Diana. Even altho we meet as stranjers now I stil lov her with an INEXTINGUISHABLE lov. It makes me very sad at times to think about her. But realy, Marilla, one cant stay sad very long in such an intrestng world, can one?" CHAPTR XVIII Ann to th Rescu AL things gret ar wound up with al things litl. At first glance it myt not seem that th decision of a certn Canadian Premir to include Prince Edwrd Iland in a politicl tour cud hav much or anything to do with th fortunes of litl Ann Shirly at Green Gables. But it had. It was a Janury th Premir came, to adress his loyl suportrs and such of his nonsupporters as chose to be presnt at th monstr mass meetng held in Charlottetown. Most of th Avonlea peple wer on Premier's side of politics; hence on th nyt of th meetng nearly al th men and a goodly proportion of th women had gon to town thirty miles away. Mrs. Rachel Lynde had gon too. Mrs. Rachel Lynde was a red-hot politician and cudnt hav beleved that th politicl rally cud be carrid thru without her, altho she was on th oposit side of politics. So she went to town and took her husbnd--Tomas wud be useful in lookng aftr th horse--and Marilla Cuthbert with her. Marilla had a sneakng intrest in politics herself, and as she thot it myt be her only chance to se a real liv Premir, she promtly took it, leving Ann and Mathew to keep house until her return th foloing day. Hence, wile Marilla and Mrs. Rachel wer enjoyng themselvs hujely at th mass meetng, Ann and Mathew had th cheerful kichn at Green Gables al to themselvs. A bryt fire was gloing in th old-fashnd Watrloo stove and blu-wite frost crystls wer shining on th windopanes. Mathew nodd over a FARMERS' ADVOCAT on th sofa and Ann at th table studid her lesns with grim determnation, despite sundry wistful glances at th clok shelf, wher lay a new book that Jane Andrews had lent her that day. Jane had asured her that it was warantd to produce any numbr of thrils, or words to that efect, and Anne's fingrs tingld to reach out for it. But that wud mean Gilbrt Blythe's triumf on th moro. Ann turnd her bak on th clok shelf and tryd to imajn it wasnt ther. "Mathew, did u evr study jeometry wen u went to scool?" "Wel now, no, I didnt," said Mathew, comng out of his doze with a start. "I wish u had," syd Ann, "because then u'd be able to sympathize with me. U cant sympathize proprly if u'v nevr studid it. It is castng a cloud over my hole life. I'm such a dunce at it, Mathew." "Wel now, I duno," said Mathew soothingly. "I gess u'r al ryt at anything. Mr. Phillips told me last week in Blair's stor at Carmody that u was th smartst scolr in scool and was making rapid progress. `Rapid progress' was his very words. Ther's them as runs down Teddy Phillips and says he aint much of a teachr, but I gess he's al ryt." Mathew wud hav thot anyone ho prased Ann was "al ryt." "I'm sure I'd get on betr with jeometry if only he wudnt chanje th letrs," complaind Ann. "I lern th proposition off by hart and then he draws it on th blakbord and puts difrnt letrs from wat ar in th book and I get al mixd up. I dont think a teachr shud take such a mean advantaj, do u? We'r studying agricultur now and I'v found out at last wat makes th roads red. It's a gret comfrt. I wondr how Marilla and Mrs. Lynde ar enjoyng themselvs. Mrs. Lynde says Canada is going to th dogs th way things ar being run at Otawa and that it's an awful warnng to th electrs. She says if women wer alowd to vote we wud soon se a blesd chanje. Wat way do u vote, Mathew?" "Conservativ," said Mathew promtly. To vote Conservativ was part of Matthew's relijn. "Then I'm Conservativ too," said Ann decidedly. "I'm glad because Gil--because som of th boys in scool ar Grits. I gess Mr. Phillips is a Grit too because Prissy Andrews's fathr is one, and Ruby Gillis says that wen a man is cortng he always has to agree with th girl's mothr in relijn and her fathr in politics. Is that tru, Mathew?" "Wel now, I duno," said Mathew. "Did u evr go cortng, Mathew?" "Wel now, no, I dunno's I evr did," said Mathew, ho had certnly nevr thot of such a thing in his hole existnce. Ann reflectd with her chin in her hands. "It must be rathr intrestng, dont u think, Mathew? Ruby Gillis says wen she gros up she's going to hav evr so many beaus on th string and hav them al crazy about her; but I think that wud be too exiting. I'd rathr hav just one in his ryt mind. But Ruby Gillis nos a gret deal about such matrs because she has so many big sistrs, and Mrs. Lynde says th Gillis girls hav gon off like hot cakes. Mr. Phillips gos up to se Prissy Andrews nearly evry evenng. He says it is to help her with her lesns but Miranda Sloane is studying for Queen's too, and I shud think she needd help a lot mor than Prissy because she's evr so much stupider, but he nevr gos to help her in th evenngs at al. Ther ar a gret many things in this world that I cant undrstand very wel, Mathew." "Wel now, I duno as I comprehend them al myself," aknolejd Mathew. "Wel, I supose I must finish up my lesns. I wont alow myself to open that new book Jane lent me until I'm thru. But it's a teribl temtation, Mathew. Even wen I turn my bak on it I can se it ther just as plan. Jane said she cryd herself sik over it. I lov a book that makes me cry. But I think I'l carry that book into th sitng room and lok it in th jam closet and giv u th ke. And u must NOT giv it to me, Mathew, until my lesns ar don, not even if I implor u on my bendd nes. It's al very wel to say resist temtation, but it's evr so much esir to resist it if u cant get th ke. And then shal I run down th celr and get som russets, Mathew? Wudnt u like som russets?" "Wel now, I duno but wat I wud," said Mathew, ho nevr ate russets but new Anne's weakness for them. Just as Ann emerjd triumfntly from th celr with her plateful of russets came th sound of flyng footsteps on th icy bord walk outside and th next moment th kichn dor was flung open and in rushd Diana Barry, wite faced and brethless, with a shawl rapd hastily around her hed. Ann promtly let go of her candl and plate in her surprise, and plate, candl, and apls crashd togethr down th celr ladr and wer found at th botm embedd in meltd grese, th next day, by Marilla, ho gathrd them up and thankd mercy th house hadnt been set on fire. "Watevr is th matr, Diana?" cryd Ann. "Has yr mothr relentd at last?" "O, Ann, do com quik," implord Diana nervusly. "Minni May is awful sik--she's got croup. Yung Mary Jo says--and Fathr and Mothr ar away to town and ther's nobody to go for th doctr. Minni May is awful bad and Yung Mary Jo dosnt no wat to do--and o, Ann, I'm so scared!" Mathew, without a word, reachd out for cap and coat, slipd past Diana and away into th darkns of th yard. "He's gon to harness th sorel mare to go to Carmody for th doctr," said Ann, ho was hurrying on hood and jaket. "I no it as wel as if he'd said so. Mathew and I ar such kindred spirits I can red his thots without words at al." "I dont beleve he'l find th doctr at Carmody," sobd Diana. "I no that Dr. Blair went to town and I gess Dr. Spencer wud go too. Yung Mary Jo nevr saw anybody with croup and Mrs. Lynde is away. O, Ann!" "Dont cry, Di," said Ann cheerily. "I no exactly wat to do for croup. U forget that Mrs. Hammond had twins thre times. Wen u look aftr thre pairs of twins u natrly get a lot of experience. They al had croup regulrly. Just wait til I get th ipecac botl--u mayn't hav any at yr house. Com on now." Th two litl girls hasend out hand in hand and hurrid thru Lover's Lane and across th crustd field beyond, for th sno was too deep to go by th shortr wood way. Ann, altho sincerely sorry for Minni May, was far from being insensbl to th romance of th situation and to th sweetness of once mor sharing that romance with a kindred spirit. Th nyt was clear and frosty, al ebny of shado and silvr of snowy slope; big stars wer shining over th silent fields; here and ther th dark pointd firs stood up with sno powdrng ther branchs and th wind wislng thru them. Ann thot it was truly delytful to go skimng thru al this mystry and lovliness with yr bosm frend ho had been so long estranjed. Minni May, ajed thre, was realy very sik. She lay on th kichn sofa feverish and restless, wile her horse brething cud be herd al over th house. Yung Mary Jo, a buxm, brod-faced French girl from th creek, hom Mrs. Barry had engajed to stay with th children during her absnce, was helpless and bewildrd, quite incapabl of thinkng wat to do, or doing it if she thot of it. Ann went to work with skil and promtness. "Minni May has croup al ryt; she's pretty bad, but I'v seen them worse. First we must hav lots of hot watr. I declare, Diana, ther isnt mor than a cupful in th ketl! Ther, I'v fild it up, and, Mary Jo, u may put som wood in th stove. I dont want to hurt yr feelngs but it seems to me u myt hav thot of this befor if u'd any imajnation. Now, I'l undress Minni May and put her to bed and u try to find som soft flanl cloths, Diana. I'm going to giv her a dose of ipecac first of al." Minni May did not take kindly to th ipecac but Ann had not brot up thre pairs of twins for nothing. Down that ipecac went, not only once, but many times during th long, anxius nyt wen th two litl girls workd patiently over th sufrng Minni May, and Yung Mary Jo, onestly anxius to do al she cud, kept up a rorng fire and heatd mor watr than wud hav been needd for a hospitl of croupy babis. It was thre oclok wen Mathew came with a doctr, for he had been oblijed to go al th way to Spencervale for one. But th presng need for asistnce was past. Minni May was much betr and was sleepng soundly. "I was awfuly near givng up in despair," explaind Ann. "She got worse and worse until she was sikr than evr th Hammond twins wer, even th last pair. I actuly thot she was going to choke to deth. I gave her evry drop of ipecac in that botl and wen th last dose went down I said to myself--not to Diana or Yung Mary Jo, because I didnt want to worry them any mor than they wer worrid, but I had to say it to myself just to releve my feelngs--`This is th last lingrng hope and I fear, tis a vain one.' But in about thre minuts she cofd up th flem and began to get betr ryt away. U must just imajn my relief, doctr, because I cant express it in words. U no ther ar som things that canot be expresd in words." "Yes, I no," nodd th doctr. He lookd at Ann as if he wer thinkng som things about her that cudnt be expresd in words. Later on, howevr, he expresd them to Mr. and Mrs. Barry. "That litl redhedd girl they hav over at Cuthbert's is as smart as they make 'em. I tel u she saved that baby's life, for it wud hav been too late by th time I got ther. She seems to hav a skil and presnce of mind perfectly wondrful in a child of her aje. I nevr saw anything like th ys of her wen she was explainng th case to me." Ann had gon home in th wondrful, wite-frostd wintr mornng, hevy yd from loss of sleep, but stil talkng unweariedly to Mathew as they crosd th long wite field and walkd undr th glitrng fairy arch of th Lover's Lane maples. "O, Mathew, isnt it a wondrful mornng? Th world looks like somthing God had just imajnd for His own plesur, dosnt it? Those tres look as if I cud blo them away with a breth--pouf! I'm so glad I liv in a world wher ther ar wite frosts, arnt u? And I'm so glad Mrs. Hammond had thre pairs of twins aftr al. If she hadnt I mytnt hav nown wat to do for Minni May. I'm real sorry I was evr cross with Mrs. Hammond for havng twins. But, o, Mathew, I'm so sleepy. I cant go to scool. I just no I cudnt keep my ys open and I'd be so stupid. But l hate to stay home, for Gil--som of th othrs wil get hed of th class, and it's so hard to get up again--altho of corse th harder it is th mor satisfaction u hav wen u do get up, havnt u?" "Wel now, I gess u'l manaj al ryt," said Mathew, lookng at Anne's wite litl face and th dark shados undr her ys. "U just go ryt to bed and hav a good sleep. I'l do al th chors." Ann acordngly went to bed and slept so long and soundly that it was wel on in th wite and rosy wintr aftrnoon wen she awoke and desendd to th kichn wher Marilla, ho had arived home in th meantime, was sitng nitng. "O, did u se th Premir?" exclaimd Ann at once. "Wat did he look like Marilla?" "Wel, he nevr got to be Premir on acount of his looks," said Marilla. "Such a nose as that man had! But he can speak. I was proud of being a Conservativ. Rachel Lynde, of corse, being a Librl, had no use for him. Yr dinr is in th ovn, Ann, and u can get yrself som blu plum preserv out of th pantry. I gess u'r hungry. Mathew has been telng me about last nyt. I must say it was fortunat u new wat to do. I wudnt hav had any idea myself, for I nevr saw a case of croup. Ther now, nevr mind talkng til u'v had yr dinr. I can tel by th look of u that u'r just ful up with speechs, but they'l keep." Marilla had somthing to tel Ann, but she did not tel it just then for she new if she did Anne's consequent exitemnt wud lift her clear out of th rejon of such material matrs as apetite or dinr. Not until Ann had finishd her saucer of blu plums did Marilla say: "Mrs. Barry was here this aftrnoon, Ann. She wantd to se u, but I wudnt wake u up. She says u saved Minni May's life, and she is very sorry she actd as she did in that afair of th curant wine. She says she nos now u didnt mean to set Diana drunk, and she hopes u'l forgiv her and be good frends with Diana again. U'r to go over this evenng if u like for Diana cant stir outside th dor on acount of a bad cold she caut last nyt. Now, Ann Shirly, for pity's sake dont fly up into th air." Th warnng seemd not unecesry, so upliftd and aerial was Anne's expression and atitude as she sprang to her feet, her face irradiated with th flame of her spirit. "O, Marilla, can I go ryt now--without washng my dishs? I'l wash them wen I com bak, but I canot tie myself down to anything so unromantic as dishwashing at this thrilng moment." "Yes, yes, run along," said Marilla induljntly. "Ann Shirly--ar u crazy? Com bak this instnt and put somthing on u. I myt as wel cal to th wind. She's gon without a cap or rap. Look at her terng thru th orchrd with her hair streamng. It'l be a mercy if she dosnt cach her deth of cold." Ann came dancing home in th purpl wintr twilyt across th snowy places. Afar in th southwest was th gret shimrng, perl-like sparkl of an evenng star in a sky that was pale goldn and ethereal rose over gleamng wite spaces and dark glens of spruce. Th tinkles of slei bels among th snowy hils came like elfn chimes thru th frosty air, but ther music was not sweetr than th song in Anne's hart and on her lips. "U se befor u a perfectly happy persn, Marilla," she anounced. "I'm perfectly happy--yes, in spite of my red hair. Just at presnt I hav a sol abov red hair. Mrs. Barry kisd me and cryd and said she was so sorry and she cud nevr repay me. I felt fearfuly embarasd, Marilla, but I just said as politely as I cud, `I hav no hard feelngs for u, Mrs. Barry. I asure u once for al that I did not mean to intoxicate Diana and henceforth I shal covr th past with th mantl of oblivion.' That was a pretty dignifyd way of speakng wasnt it, Marilla? I felt that I was heapng coals of fire on Mrs. Barry's hed. And Diana and I had a lovly aftrnoon. Diana showd me a new fancy crochet stich her ant over at Carmody taut her. Not a sol in Avonlea nos it but us, and we plejd a solem vow nevr to reveal it to anyone else. Diana gave me a butiful card with a reath of roses on it and a verse of poetry: "If u lov me as I lov u Nothing but deth can part us two. And that is tru, Marilla. We'r going to ask Mr. Phillips to let us sit togethr in scool again, and Gerti Pye can go with Minni Andrews. We had an elegnt te. Mrs. Barry had th very best china set out, Marilla, just as if I was real compny. I cant tel u wat a thril it gave me. Nobody evr used ther very best china on my acount befor. And we had fruit cake and pound cake and dohnuts and two kinds of preservs, Marilla. And Mrs. Barry askd me if I took te and said `Pa, wy dont u pass th biscuits to Ann?' It must be lovly to be grown up, Marilla, wen just being treatd as if u wer is so nice." "I dont no about that," said Marilla, with a brief sy. "Wel, anyway, wen I am grown up," said Ann decidedly, "I'm always going to talk to litl girls as if they wer too, and I'l nevr laf wen they use big words. I no from soroful experience how that hurts one's feelngs. Aftr te Diana and I made taffy. Th taffy wasnt very good, I supose because neithr Diana nor I had evr made any befor. Diana left me to stir it wile she butrd th plates and I forgot and let it burn; and then wen we set it out on th platform to cool th cat walkd over one plate and that had to be thrown away. But th making of it was splendid fun. Then wen I came home Mrs. Barry askd me to com over as ofn as I cud and Diana stood at th windo and threw kisses to me al th way down to Lover's Lane. I asure u, Marilla, that I feel like prayng tonyt and I'm going to think out a special brand-new prayr in onr of th ocasion." CHAPTR XIX A Concert a Catastrofe and a Confession "MARILLA, can I go over to se Diana just for a minut?" askd Ann, runng brethlesly down from th east gable one Febry evenng. "I dont se wat u want to be traipsing about aftr dark for," said Marilla shortly. "U and Diana walkd home from scool togethr and then stood down ther in th sno for half an our mor, yr tongs going th hole blesd time, clickety-clak. So I dont think u'r very badly off to se her again." "But she wants to se me," pleadd Ann. "She has somthing very importnt to tel me." "How do u no she has?" "Because she just signld to me from her windo. We hav aranjed a way to signl with our candls and cardbord. We set th candl on th windo sil and make flashs by pasng th cardbord bak and forth. So many flashs mean a certn thing. It was my idea, Marilla." "I'l warant u it was," said Marilla emfaticly. "And th next thing u'l be setng fire to th curtns with yr signlng nonsnse." "O, we'r very careful, Marilla. And it's so intrestng. Two flashs mean, `Ar u ther?' Thre mean `yes' and four `no.' Five mean, `Com over as soon as posbl, because I hav somthing importnt to reveal.' Diana has just signld five flashs, and I'm realy sufrng to no wat it is." "Wel, u neednt sufr any longr," said Marilla sarcasticly. "U can go, but u'r to be bak here in just ten minuts, remembr that." Ann did remembr it and was bak in th stipulated time, altho probbly no mortl wil evr no just wat it cost her to confine th discussion of Diana's importnt comunication within th limits of ten minuts. But at least she had made good use of them. "O, Marilla, wat do u think? U no tomoro is Diana's birthday. Wel, her mothr told her she cud ask me to go home with her from scool and stay al nyt with her. And her cusns ar comng over from Newbridge in a big pung slei to go to th Debating Club concert at th hal tomoro nyt. And they ar going to take Diana and me to th concert--if u'l let me go, that is. U wil, wont u, Marilla? O, I feel so exited." "U can calm down then, because u'r not going. U'r betr at home in yr own bed, and as for that club concert, it's al nonsnse, and litl girls shud not be alowd to go out to such places at al." "I'm sure th Debating Club is a most respectbl afair," pleadd Ann. "I'm not sayng it isnt. But u'r not going to begin gadding about to concerts and stayng out al ours of th nyt. Pretty doings for children. I'm surprised at Mrs. Barry's letng Diana go." "But it's such a very special ocasion," mornd Ann, on th verj of tears. "Diana has only one birthday in a year. It isnt as if birthdays wer comn things, Marilla. Prissy Andrews is going to recite `Curfew Must Not Ring Tonyt.' That is such a good moral pece, Marilla, I'm sure it wud do me lots of good to hear it. And th coir ar going to sing four lovly pathetic songs that ar pretty near as good as hyms. And o, Marilla, th ministr is going to take part; yes, indeed, he is; he's going to giv an adress. That wil be just about th same thing as a sermn. Plese, mayn't I go, Marilla?" "U herd wat I said, Ann, didnt u? Take off yr boots now and go to bed. It's past eit." "Ther's just one mor thing, Marilla," said Ann, with th air of producing th last shot in her lokr. "Mrs. Barry told Diana that we myt sleep in th spare-room bed. Think of th onr of yr litl Ann being put in th spare-room bed." "It's an onr u'l hav to get along without. Go to bed, Ann, and dont let me hear anothr word out of u." Wen Ann, with tears rolng over her cheeks, had gon sorofuly upstairs, Mathew, ho had been aparently sound asleep on th lounj during th hole dialog, opend his ys and said decidedly: "Wel now, Marilla, I think u ot to let Ann go." "I dont then," retortd Marilla. "Ho's bringng this child up, Mathew, u or me?" "Wel now, u," admitd Mathew. "Dont intrfere then." "Wel now, I aint intrfering. It aint intrfering to hav yr own opinion. And my opinion is that u ot to let Ann go." "U'd think I ot to let Ann go to th moon if she took th notion, I'v no dout" was Marilla's amiabl rejoindr. "I myt hav let her spend th nyt with Diana, if that was al. But I dont aprove of this concert plan. She'd go ther and cach cold like as not, and hav her hed fild up with nonsnse and exitemnt. It wud unsetl her for a week. I undrstand that child's disposition and wat's good for it betr than u, Mathew." "I think u ot to let Ann go," repeatd Mathew firmly. Argumnt was not his strong point, but holdng fast to his opinion certnly was. Marilla gave a gasp of helplesness and took refuje in silence. Th next mornng, wen Ann was washng th brekfast dishs in th pantry, Mathew pausd on his way out to th barn to say to Marilla again: "I think u ot to let Ann go, Marilla." For a moment Marilla lookd things not lawful to be utrd. Then she yieldd to th inevitbl and said tartly: "Very wel, she can go, since nothing else'll plese u." Ann flew out of th pantry, dripng dishcloth in hand. "O, Marilla, Marilla, say those blesd words again." "I gess once is enuf to say them. This is Matthew's doings and I wash my hands of it. If u cach numonia sleepng in a stranje bed or comng out of that hot hal in th midl of th nyt, dont blame me, blame Mathew. Ann Shirly, u'r dripng gresy watr al over th flor. I nevr saw such a careless child." "O, I no I'm a gret trial to u, Marilla," said Ann repentantly. "I make so many mistakes. But then just think of al th mistakes I dont make, altho I myt. I'l get som sand and scrub up th spots befor I go to scool. O, Marilla, my hart was just set on going to that concert. I nevr was to a concert in my life, and wen th othr girls talk about them in scool I feel so out of it. U didnt no just how I felt about it, but u se Mathew did. Mathew undrstands me, and it's so nice to be undrstood, Marilla." Ann was too exited to do herself justice as to lesns that mornng in scool. Gilbrt Blythe speld her down in class and left her clear out of syt in mentl arithmetic. Anne's consequent humiliation was less than it myt hav been, howevr, in vew of th concert and th spare-room bed. She and Diana talkd so constntly about it al day that with a strictr teachr than Mr. Phillips dire disgrace must inevitbly hav been ther portion. Ann felt that she cud not hav born it if she had not been going to th concert, for nothing else was discusd that day in scool. Th Avonlea Debating Club, wich met fortnytly al wintr, had had sevrl smalr fre entrtainmnts; but this was to be a big afair, admission ten cents, in aid of th libry. Th Avonlea yung peple had been practisng for weeks, and al th scolrs wer especialy intrestd in it by reasn of oldr brothrs and sistrs ho wer going to take part. Evrybody in scool over nine years of aje expectd to go, exept Carrie Sloane, hos fathr shared Marilla's opinions about smal girls going out to nyt concerts. Carrie Sloane cryd into her gramr al th aftrnoon and felt that life was not worth livng. For Ann th real exitemnt began with th dismisl of scool and incresed therefrom in crescendo until it reachd to a crash of positiv ecstasy in th concert itself. They had a "perfectly elegnt te;" and then came th delicius ocupation of dresng in Diana's litl room upstairs. Diana did Anne's front hair in th new pompadour styl and Ann tied Diana's bos with th especial nak she posesd; and they experimntd with at least half a dozn difrnt ways of aranjing ther bak hair. At last they wer redy, cheeks scarlet and ys gloing with exitemnt. Tru, Ann cud not help a litl pang wen she contrastd her plan blak tam and shapeless, tyt-sleved, homemade gray-cloth coat with Diana's jaunty fur cap and smart litl jaket. But she remembrd in time that she had an imajnation and cud use it. Then Diana's cusns, th Murrays from Newbridge, came; they al crowdd into th big pung slei, among straw and furry robes. Ann reveled in th drive to th hal, slipng along over th satn-smooth roads with th sno crisping undr th runrs. Ther was a magnificent sunset, and th snowy hils and deep-blu watr of th St. Lawrence Gulf seemd to rim??? in th splendr like a huje bol of perl and safire brimd with wine and fire. Tinkles of slei bels and distnt laftr, that seemd like th mirth of wood elvs, came from evry quartr. "O, Diana," brethed Ann, squezing Diana's mittened hand undr th fur robe, "isnt it al like a butiful dream? Do I realy look th same as usul? I feel so difrnt that it seems to me it must sho in my looks." "U look awfuly nice," said Diana, ho havng just receved a complmnt from one of her cusns, felt that she ot to pass it on. "U'v got th lovliest color." Th program that nyt was a series of "thrils" for at least one lisnr in th audience, and, as Ann asured Diana, evry succeedng thril was thrillier than th last. Wen Prissy Andrews, atired in a new pink-silk waist with a string of perls about her smooth wite throat and real carnations in her hair--rumor wisprd that th mastr had sent al th way to town for them for her--"climbd th slimy ladr, dark without one ray of lyt," Ann shivrd in luxurius sympathy; wen th coir sang "Far Abov th Jentl Daisis" Ann gazed at th celing as if it wer frescoed with anjels; wen Sam Sloane proceedd to explain and ilustrate "How Sockery Set a Hen" Ann lafd until peple sitng near her lafd too, mor out of sympathy with her than with amusemnt at a selection that was rathr thredbare even in Avonlea; and wen Mr. Phillips gave Mark Antony's oration over th ded body of Cesar in th most heartstirring tones--lookng at Prissy Andrews at th end of evry sentnce--Ann felt that she cud rise and mutiny on th spot if but one Roman citizn led th way. Only one numbr on th program faild to intrest her. Wen Gilbrt Blythe recited "Bingen on th Rine" Ann pikd up Roda Murray's libry book and red it until he had finishd, wen she sat rijidly stif and motionless wile Diana clapd her hands until they tingld. It was elevn wen they got home, sated with disipation, but with th exeedng sweet plesur of talkng it al over stil to com. Evrybody seemd asleep and th house was dark and silent. Ann and Diana tiptoed into th parlr, a long naro room out of wich th spare room opend. It was plesntly warm and dimly lytd by th embrs of a fire in th grate. "Let's undress here," said Diana. "It's so nice and warm." "Hasnt it been a delytful time?" syd Ann rapturusly. "It must be splendid to get up and recite ther. Do u supose we wil evr be askd to do it, Diana?" "Yes, of corse, somday. They'r always wantng th big scolrs to recite. Gilbrt Blythe dos ofn and he's only two years oldr than us. O, Ann, how cud u pretend not to lisn to him? Wen he came to th line, "THER'S ANOTHR, not A SISTR, he lookd ryt down at u." "Diana," said Ann with dignity, "u ar my bosm frend, but I canot alow even u to speak to me of that persn. Ar u redy for bed? Let's run a race and se ho'l get to th bed first." Th sujestion apeald to Diana. Th two litl wite-clad figrs flew down th long room, thru th spare-room dor, and boundd on th bed at th same moment. And then--somthing--moved beneath them, ther was a gasp and a cry--and sombody said in mufld accents: "Merciful goodness!" Ann and Diana wer nevr able to tel just how they got off that bed and out of th room. They only new that aftr one frantic rush they found themselvs tiptoeing shiveringly upstairs. "O, ho was it--WAT was it?" wisprd Ann, her teeth chatrng with cold and fryt. "It was Ant Josefine," said Diana, gaspng with laftr. "O, Ann, it was Ant Josefine, howevr she came to be ther. O, and I no she wil be furius. It's dredful--it's realy dredful--but did u evr no anything so funny, Ann?" "Ho is yr Ant Josefine?" "She's father's ant and she lives in Charlottetown. She's awfuly old--sevnty anyhow--and I dont beleve she was EVR a litl girl. We wer expectng her out for a visit, but not so soon. She's awfuly prim and propr and she'l scold dredfuly about this, I no. Wel, we'l hav to sleep with Minni May--and u cant think how she kiks." Miss Josefine Barry did not apear at th erly brekfast th next mornng. Mrs. Barry smiled kindly at th two litl girls. "Did u hav a good time last nyt? I tryd to stay awake until u came home, for I wantd to tel u Ant Josefine had com and that u wud hav to go upstairs aftr al, but I was so tired I fel asleep. I hope u didnt disturb yr ant, Diana." Diana preservd a discreet silence, but she and Ann exchanjed furtiv smiles of gilty amusemnt across th table. Ann hurrid home aftr brekfast and so remaind in blisful ignrnce of th disturbnce wich presntly resultd in th Barry houshold until th late aftrnoon, wen she went down to Mrs. Lynde's on an erand for Marilla. "So u and Diana nearly frytnd poor old Miss Barry to deth last nyt?" said Mrs. Lynde severely, but with a twinkl in her y. "Mrs. Barry was here a few minuts ago on her way to Carmody. She's feelng real worrid over it. Old Miss Barry was in a teribl tempr wen she got up this mornng--and Josefine Barry's tempr is no joke, I can tel u that. She wudnt speak to Diana at al." "It wasnt Diana's falt," said Ann contritely. "It was mine. I sujestd racing to se ho wud get into bed first." "I new it!" said Mrs. Lynde, with th exltation of a corect guesser. "I new that idea came out of yr hed. Wel, it's made a nice lot of trubl, that's wat. Old Miss Barry came out to stay for a month, but she declares she wont stay anothr day and is going ryt bak to town tomoro, Sunday and al as it is. She'd hav gon today if they cud hav taken her. She had promisd to pay for a quarter's music lesns for Diana, but now she is determnd to do nothing at al for such a tomboy. O, I gess they had a lively time of it ther this mornng. Th Barrys must feel cut up. Old Miss Barry is rich and they'd like to keep on th good side of her. Of corse, Mrs. Barry didnt say just that to me, but I'm a pretty good juj of human natur, that's wat." "I'm such an unlucky girl," mornd Ann. "I'm always getng into scrapes myself and getng my best frends--peple I'd shed my heart's blod for--into them too. Can u tel me wy it is so, Mrs. Lynde?" "It's because u'r too heedless and impulsiv, child, that's wat. U nevr stop to think--watevr coms into yr hed to say or do u say or do it without a moment's reflection." "O, but that's th best of it," protestd Ann. "Somthing just flashs into yr mind, so exiting, and u must out with it. If u stop to think it over u spoil it al. Havnt u nevr felt that yrself, Mrs. Lynde?" No, Mrs. Lynde had not. She shook her hed sajely. "U must lern to think a litl, Ann, that's wat. Th provrb u need to go by is `Look befor u leap'--especialy into spare-room beds." Mrs. Lynde lafd comfrtbly over her mild joke, but Ann remaind pensiv. She saw nothing to laf at in th situation, wich to her ys apeard very serius. Wen she left Mrs. Lynde's she took her way across th crustd fields to Orchrd Slope. Diana met her at th kichn dor. "Yr Ant Josefine was very cross about it, wasnt she?" wisprd Ann. "Yes," ansrd Diana, stifling a gigl with an aprehensiv glance over her sholdr at th closed sitng-room dor. "She was fairly dancing with raje, Ann. O, how she scoldd. She said I was th worst-behaved girl she evr saw and that my parents ot to be ashamed of th way they had brot me up. She says she wont stay and I'm sure I dont care. But Fathr and Mothr do." "Wy didnt u tel them it was my falt?" demandd Ann. "It's likely I'd do such a thing, isnt it?" said Diana with just scorn. "I'm no teltale, Ann Shirly, and anyhow I was just as much to blame as u." "Wel, I'm going in to tel her myself," said Ann reslutely. Diana stared. "Ann Shirly, u'd nevr! wy--she'l eat u alive!" "Dont frytn me any mor than I am frytnd," implord Ann. "I'd rathr walk up to a cannon's mouth. But I'v got to do it, Diana. It was my falt and I'v got to confess. I'v had practis in confesng, fortunatly." "Wel, she's in th room," said Diana. "U can go in if u want to. I wudnt dare. And I dont beleve u'l do a bit of good." With this encurajmnt Ann beardd th lion in its den--that is to say, walkd reslutely up to th sitng-room dor and nokd faintly. A sharp "Com in" folod. Miss Josefine Barry, thin, prim, and rijid, was nitng fiercely by th fire, her rath quite unappeased and her ys snapng thru her gold-rimd glasses. She weeld around in her chair, expectng to se Diana, and beheld a wite-faced girl hos gret ys wer brimd up with a mixtur of desprat curaj and shrinkng terr. "Ho ar u?" demandd Miss Josefine Barry, without ceremny. "I'm Ann of Green Gables," said th smal visitr tremulusly, claspng her hands with her caractristic jestur, "and I'v com to confess, if u plese." "Confess wat?" "That it was al my falt about jumpng into bed on u last nyt. I sujestd it. Diana wud nevr hav thot of such a thing, I am sure. Diana is a very ladylike girl, Miss Barry. So u must se how unjust it is to blame her." "O, I must, hey? I rathr think Diana did her share of th jumpng at least. Such carryings on in a respectbl house!" "But we wer only in fun," persistd Ann. "I think u ot to forgiv us, Miss Barry, now that we'v apolojized. And anyhow, plese forgiv Diana and let her hav her music lesns. Diana's hart is set on her music lesns, Miss Barry, and I no too wel wat it is to set yr hart on a thing and not get it. If u must be cross with anyone, be cross with me. I'v been so used in my erly days to havng peple cross at me that I can endure it much betr than Diana can." Much of th snap had gon out of th old lady's ys by this time and was replaced by a twinkl of amused intrest. But she stil said severely: "I dont think it is any excuse for u that u wer only in fun. Litl girls nevr induljd in that kind of fun wen I was yung. U dont no wat it is to be awakend out of a sound sleep, aftr a long and arduus jurny, by two gret girls comng bounce down on u." "I dont NO, but I can IMAJN," said Ann eagrly. "I'm sure it must hav been very disturbng. But then, ther is our side of it too. Hav u any imajnation, Miss Barry? If u hav, just put yrself in our place. We didnt no ther was anybody in that bed and u nearly scared us to deth. It was simply awful th way we felt. And then we cudnt sleep in th spare room aftr being promisd. I supose u ar used to sleepng in spare rooms. But just imajn wat u wud feel like if u wer a litl orfn girl ho had nevr had such an onr." Al th snap had gon by this time. Miss Barry actuly lafd--a sound wich causd Diana, waitng in speechless anxiety in th kichn outside, to giv a gret gasp of relief. "I'm afraid my imajnation is a litl rusty--it's so long since I used it," she said. "I dare say yr claim to sympathy is just as strong as mine. It al depends on th way we look at it. Sit down here and tel me about yrself." "I am very sorry I cant," said Ann firmly. "I wud like to, because u seem like an intrestng lady, and u myt even be a kindred spirit altho u dont look very much like it. But it is my duty to go home to Miss Marilla Cuthbert. Miss Marilla Cuthbert is a very kind lady ho has taken me to bring up proprly. She is doing her best, but it is very discurajng work. U must not blame her because I jumpd on th bed. But befor I go I do wish u wud tel me if u wil forgiv Diana and stay just as long as u ment to in Avonlea." "I think perhaps I wil if u wil com over and talk to me ocasionly," said Miss Barry. That evenng Miss Barry gave Diana a silvr bangl bracelet and told th senir membrs of th houshold that she had unpakd her valise. "I'v made up my mind to stay simply for th sake of getng betr aquaintd with that Ann-girl," she said frankly. "She amuses me, and at my time of life an amusing persn is a rarity." Marilla's only coment wen she herd th story was, "I told u so." This was for Matthew's benefit. Miss Barry stayd her month out and over. She was a mor agreeabl gest than usul, for Ann kept her in good humor. They became firm frends. Wen Miss Barry went away she said: "Remembr, u Ann-girl, wen u com to town u'r to visit me and I'l put u in my very sparest spare-room bed to sleep." "Miss Barry was a kindred spirit, aftr al," Ann confided to Marilla. "U wudnt think so to look at her, but she is. U dont find it ryt out at first, as in Matthew's case, but aftr a wile u com to se it. Kindred spirits ar not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out ther ar so many of them in th world." CHAPTR XX A Good Imajnation Gon Rong Spring had com once mor to Green Gables--th butiful capricius, reluctnt Canadian spring, lingrng along thru April and May in a succession of sweet, fresh, chilly days, with pink sunsets and miracls of resrection and groth. Th maples in Lover's Lane wer red budded and litl curly ferns pushd up around th Dryad's Bubl. Away up in th barrens, behind Mr. Silas Sloane's place, th Mayflowers blosmd out, pink and wite stars of sweetness undr ther brown leavs. Al th scool girls and boys had one goldn aftrnoon gathrng them, comng home in th clear, ecoing twilyt with arms and baskets ful of flowry spoil. "I'm so sorry for peple ho liv in lands wher ther ar no Mayflowers," said Ann. "Diana says perhaps they hav somthing betr, but ther cudnt be anything betr than Mayflowers, cud ther, Marilla? And Diana says if they dont no wat they ar like they dont miss them. But I think that is th sadst thing of al. I think it wud be TRAJIC, Marilla, not to no wat Mayflowers ar like and NOT to miss them. Do u no wat I think Mayflowers ar, Marilla? I think they must be th sols of th flowrs that died last sumr and this is ther hevn. But we had a splendid time today, Marilla. We had our lunch down in a big mossy holo by an old wel--such a ROMANTIC spot. Charli Sloane dared Arty Gillis to jump over it, and Arty did because he wudnt take a dare. Nobody wud in scool. It is very FASHNBL to dare. Mr. Phillips gave al th Mayflowers he found to Prissy Andrews and I herd him to say `sweets to th sweet.' He got that out of a book, I no; but it shos he has som imajnation. I was ofrd som Mayflowers too, but I rejectd them with scorn. I cant tel u th person's name because I hav vowd nevr to let it cross my lips. We made reaths of th Mayflowers and put them on our hats; and wen th time came to go home we marchd in procession down th road, two by two, with our buqets and reaths, singng `My Home on th Hil.' O, it was so thrilng, Marilla. Al Mr. Silas Sloane's folks rushd out to se us and evrybody we met on th road stopd and stared aftr us. We made a real sensation." "Not much wondr! Such silly doings!" was Marilla's response. Aftr th Mayflowers came th violets, and Violet Vale was empurpled with them. Ann walkd thru it on her way to scool with revrnt steps and worshiping ys, as if she trod on holy ground. "Somhow," she told Diana, "wen I'm going thru here I dont realy care wethr Gil--wethr anybody gets ahed of me in class or not. But wen I'm up in scool it's al difrnt and I care as much as evr. Ther's such a lot of difrnt Annes in me. I somtimes think that is wy I'm such a trublsm persn. If I was just th one Ann it wud be evr so much mor comfrtbl, but then it wudnt be half so intrestng." One June evenng, wen th orchrds wer pink blosmd again, wen th frogs wer singng silverly sweet in th marshs about th hed of th Lake of Shining Watrs, and th air was ful of th savor of clover fields and balsamic fir woods, Ann was sitng by her gable windo. She had been studying her lesns, but it had grown too dark to se th book, so she had falen into wide-yd revri, lookng out past th bous of th Sno Queen, once mor bestarred with its tufts of blosm. In al esential respects th litl gable chamber was unchanjed. Th walls wer as wite, th pincushion as hard, th chairs as stifly and yellowly upryt as evr. Yet th hole caractr of th room was altrd. It was ful of a new vital, pulsng persnality that seemd to pervade it and to be quite independnt of scoolgirl books and dresses and ribns, and even of th crakd blu jug ful of apl blosms on th table. It was as if al th dreams, sleepng and waking, of its vivid ocupnt had taken a visbl altho unmaterial form and had tapestried th bare room with splendid filmy tissus of rainbo and moonshine. Presntly Marilla came briskly in with som of Anne's freshly irond scool aprons. She hung them over a chair and sat down with a short sy. She had had one of her hedaches that aftrnoon, and altho th pain had gon she felt weak and "tuckered out," as she expresd it. Ann lookd at her with ys limpid with sympathy. "I do truly wish I cud hav had th hedache in yr place, Marilla. I wud hav endured it joyfuly for yr sake." "I gess u did yr part in atendng to th work and letng me rest," said Marilla. "U seem to hav got on fairly wel and made fewr mistakes than usul. Of corse it wasnt exactly necesry to starch Matthew's hankrchiefs! And most peple wen they put a pie in th ovn to warm up for dinr take it out and eat it wen it gets hot insted of leving it to be burnd to a crisp. But that dosnt seem to be yr way evidntly." Hedaches always left Marilla somwat sarcastic. "O, I'm so sorry," said Ann penitently. "I nevr thot about that pie from th moment I put it in th ovn til now, altho I felt INSTINCTIVLY that ther was somthing misng on th dinr table. I was firmly resolvd, wen u left me in charj this mornng, not to imajn anything, but keep my thots on facts. I did pretty wel until I put th pie in, and then an iresistbl temtation came to me to imajn I was an enchantd princess shut up in a lonely towr with a hansm nyt riding to my rescu on a coal-blak steed. So that is how I came to forget th pie. I didnt no I starchd th hankrchiefs. Al th time I was ironng I was tryng to think of a name for a new iland Diana and I hav discovrd up th brook. It's th most ravishng spot, Marilla. Ther ar two maple tres on it and th brook flos ryt around it. At last it struk me that it wud be splendid to cal it Victoria Iland because we found it on th Queen's birthday. Both Diana and I ar very loyl. But I'm sorry about that pie and th hankrchiefs. I wantd to be extra good today because it's an aniversry. Do u remembr wat hapnd this day last year, Marilla?" "No, I cant think of anything special." "O, Marilla, it was th day I came to Green Gables. I shal nevr forget it. It was th turnng point in my life. Of corse it wudnt seem so importnt to u. I'v been here for a year and I'v been so happy. Of corse, I'v had my trubls, but one can liv down trubls. Ar u sorry u kept me, Marilla?" "No, I cant say I'm sorry," said Marilla, ho somtimes wondrd how she cud hav livd befor Ann came to Green Gables, "no, not exactly sorry. If u'v finishd yr lesns, Ann, I want u to run over and ask Mrs. Barry if she'l lend me Diana's apron patrn." "O--it's--it's too dark," cryd Ann. "Too dark? Wy, it's only twilyt. And goodness nos u'v gon over ofn enuf aftr dark." "I'l go over erly in th mornng," said Ann eagrly. "I'l get up at sunrise and go over, Marilla." "Wat has got into yr hed now, Ann Shirly? I want that patrn to cut out yr new apron this evenng. Go at once and be smart too." "I'l hav to go around by th road, then," said Ann, taking up her hat reluctntly. "Go by th road and waste half an our! I'd like to cach u!" "I cant go thru th Hauntd Wood, Marilla," cryd Ann despratly. Marilla stared. "Th Hauntd Wood! Ar u crazy? Wat undr th canopy is th Hauntd Wood?" "Th spruce wood over th brook," said Ann in a wispr. "Fiddlesticks! Ther is no such thing as a hauntd wood anywher. Ho has been telng u such stuf?" "Nobody," confesd Ann. "Diana and I just imajnd th wood was hauntd. Al th places around here ar so--so--COMNPLACE. We just got this up for our own amusemnt. We began it in April. A hauntd wood is so very romantic, Marilla. We chose th spruce grove because it's so gloomy. O, we hav imajnd th most haroing things. Ther's a wite lady walks along th brook just about this time of th nyt and wrings her hands and utters wailng crys. She apears wen ther is to be a deth in th famly. And th gost of a litl murdrd child haunts th cornr up by Idlewild; it creeps up behind u and lays its cold fingrs on yr hand--so. O, Marilla, it givs me a shudr to think of it. And ther's a hedless man stalks up and down th path and skeletns glower at u between th bous. O, Marilla, I wudnt go thru th Hauntd Wood aftr dark now for anything. I'd be sure that wite things wud reach out from behind th tres and grab me." "Did evr anyone hear th like!" ejaculated Marilla, ho had lisnd in dum amazemnt. "Ann Shirly, do u mean to tel me u beleve al that wiked nonsnse of yr own imajnation?" "Not beleve EXACTLY," faltrd Ann. "At least, I dont beleve it in daylyt. But aftr dark, Marilla, it's difrnt. That is wen gosts walk." "Ther ar no such things as gosts, Ann." "O, but ther ar, Marilla," cryd Ann eagrly. "I no peple ho hav seen them. And they ar respectbl peple. Charli Sloane says that his granmothr saw his granfathr driving home th cows one nyt aftr he'd been burid for a year. U no Charli Sloane's granmothr wudnt tel a story for anything. She's a very relijus womn. And Mrs. Thomas's fathr was pursud home one nyt by a lam of fire with its hed cut off hangng by a strip of skin. He said he new it was th spirit of his brothr and that it was a warnng he wud die within nine days. He didnt, but he died two years aftr, so u se it was realy tru. And Ruby Gillis says--" "Ann Shirly," intruptd Marilla firmly, "I nevr want to hear u talkng in this fashn again. I'v had my douts about that imajnation of yrs ryt along, and if this is going to be th outcom of it, I wont countnnce any such doings. U'l go ryt over to Barry's, and u'l go thru that spruce grove, just for a lesn and a warnng to u. And nevr let me hear a word out of yr hed about hauntd woods again." Ann myt plead and cry as she liked--and did, for her terr was very real. Her imajnation had run away with her and she held th spruce grove in mortl dred aftr nytfal. But Marilla was inexrbl. She marchd th shrinkng ghostseer down to th spring and ordrd her to proceed straitaway over th brij and into th dusky retreats of wailng ladis and hedless specters beyond. "O, Marilla, how can u be so cruel?" sobd Ann. "Wat wud u feel like if a wite thing did snach me up and carry me off?" "I'l risk it," said Marilla unfeelingly. "U no I always mean wat I say. I'l cure u of imajnng gosts into places. March, now." Ann marchd. That is, she stumbld over th brij and went shudrng up th horibl dim path beyond. Ann nevr forgot that walk. Bitrly did she repent th license she had givn to her imajnation. Th goblins of her fancy lurkd in evry shado about her, reachng out ther cold, fleshless hands to grasp th terifyd smal girl ho had cald them into being. A wite strip of birch bark bloing up from th holo over th brown flor of th grove made her hart stand stil. Th long-drawn wail of two old bous rubng against each othr brot out th perspration in beads on her forhed. Th swoop of bats in th darkns over her was as th wings of unerthly creaturs. Wen she reachd Mr. Wiliam Bell's field she fled across it as if pursud by an army of wite things, and arived at th Barry kichn dor so out of breth that she cud hardly gasp out her request for th apron patrn. Diana was away so that she had no excuse to lingr. Th dredful return jurny had to be faced. Ann went bak over it with shut ys, preferng to take th risk of dashng her brains out among th bous to that of seing a wite thing. Wen she finaly stumbld over th log brij she drew one long shivrng breth of relief. "Wel, so nothing caut u?" said Marilla unsympathetically. "O, Mar--Marilla," chatrd Ann, "I'l b-b-be contt-tentd with c-c-comnplace places aftr this." CHAPTR XXI A New Departur in Flavorings "Dear me, ther is nothing but meetngs and partngs in this world, as Mrs. Lynde says," remarkd Ann plaintivly, putng her slate and books down on th kichn table on th last day of June and wiping her red ys with a very damp hankrchief. "Wasnt it fortunat, Marilla, that I took an extra hankrchief to scool today? I had a presentmnt that it wud be needd." "I nevr thot u wer so fond of Mr. Phillips that u'd require two hankrchiefs to dry yr tears just because he was going away," said Marilla. "I dont think I was cryng because I was realy so very fond of him," reflectd Ann. "I just cryd because al th othrs did. It was Ruby Gillis startd it. Ruby Gillis has always declared she hated Mr. Phillips, but just as soon as he got up to make his farewel speech she burst into tears. Then al th girls began to cry, one aftr th othr. I tryd to hold out, Marilla. I tryd to remembr th time Mr. Phillips made me sit with Gil--with a, boy; and th time he speld my name without an e on th blakbord; and how he said I was th worst dunce he evr saw at jeometry and lafd at my spelng; and al th times he had been so horid and sarcastic; but somhow I cudnt, Marilla, and I just had to cry too. Jane Andrews has been talkng for a month about how glad she'd be wen Mr. Phillips went away and she declared she'd nevr shed a tear. Wel, she was worse than any of us and had to boro a hankrchief from her brothr--of corse th boys didnt cry--because she hadnt brot one of her own, not expectng to need it. O, Marilla, it was heartrending. Mr. Phillips made such a butiful farewel speech beginng, `Th time has com for us to part.' It was very afectng. And he had tears in his ys too, Marilla. O, I felt dredfuly sorry and remorsful for al th times I'd talkd in scool and drawn picturs of him on my slate and made fun of him and Prissy. I can tel u I wishd I'd been a modl pupil like Minni Andrews. She hadnt anything on her concience. Th girls cryd al th way home from scool. Carrie Sloane kept sayng evry few minuts, `Th time has com for us to part,' and that wud start us off again wenevr we wer in any danjer of cheerng up. I do feel dredfuly sad, Marilla. But one cant feel quite in th depths of despair with two months' vacation befor them, can they, Marilla? And besides, we met th new ministr and his wife comng from th station. For al I was feelng so bad about Mr. Phillips going away I cudnt help taking a litl intrest in a new ministr, cud I? His wife is very pretty. Not exactly regaly lovly, of corse--it wudnt do, I supose, for a ministr to hav a regaly lovly wife, because it myt set a bad exampl. Mrs. Lynde says th minister's wife over at Newbridge sets a very bad exampl because she dresses so fashnbly. Our new minister's wife was dresd in blu musln with lovly pufd sleves and a hat trimd with roses. Jane Andrews said she thot pufd sleves wer too worldly for a minister's wife, but I didnt make any such uncharitbl remark, Marilla, because I no wat it is to long for pufd sleves. Besides, she's only been a minister's wife for a litl wile, so one shud make alownces, shudnt they? They ar going to bord with Mrs. Lynde until th manse is redy." If Marilla, in going down to Mrs. Lynde's that evenng, was actuated by any motiv save her avowd one of returng th quilting frames she had borod th preceding wintr, it was an amiabl weakness shared by most of th Avonlea peple. Many a thing Mrs. Lynde had lent, somtimes nevr expectng to se it again, came home that nyt in charj of th boroers therof. A new ministr, and morover a ministr with a wife, was a lawful object of curiosity in a quiet litl cuntry setlmnt wher sensations wer few and far between. Old Mr. Bentley, th ministr hom Ann had found lakng in imajnation, had been pastr of Avonlea for eiteen years. He was a widoer wen he came, and a widoer he remaind, despite th fact that gosip regulrly marrid him to this, that, or th othr one, evry year of his sojrn. In th preceding Febry he had resynd his charj and departd amid th regrets of his peple, most of hom had th afection born of long intrcorse for ther good old ministr in spite of his shortcomngs as an oratr. Since then th Avonlea church had enjoyd a variety of relijus disipation in lisnng to th many and varius candidats and "suplys" ho came Sunday aftr Sunday to preach on trial. These stood or fel by th jujmnt of th fathrs and mothrs in Israel; but a certn smal, red-haird girl ho sat meekly in th cornr of th old Cuthbert pew also had her opinions about them and discusd th same in ful with Mathew, Marilla always declining from principl to criticize ministrs in any shape or form. "I dont think Mr. Smith wud hav don, Mathew" was Anne's final sumng up. "Mrs. Lynde says his delivry was so poor, but I think his worst falt was just like Mr. Bentley's--he had no imajnation. And Mr. Terry had too much; he let it run away with him just as I did mine in th matr of th Hauntd Wood. Besides, Mrs. Lynde says his theolojy wasnt sound. Mr. Gresham was a very good man and a very relijus man, but he told too many funny storis and made th peple laf in church; he was undignifyd, and u must hav som dignity about a ministr, musnt u, Mathew? I thot Mr. Marshall was decidedly atractiv; but Mrs. Lynde says he isnt marrid, or even engajed, because she made special inquiris about him, and she says it wud nevr do to hav a yung unmarrid ministr in Avonlea, because he myt marry in th congregation and that wud make trubl. Mrs. Lynde is a very farseeing womn, isnt she, Mathew? I'm very glad they'v cald Mr. Allan. I liked him because his sermn was intrestng and he prayd as if he ment it and not just as if he did it because he was in th habit of it. Mrs. Lynde says he isnt perfect, but she says she suposes we cudnt expect a perfect ministr for sevn hundred and fifty dolrs a year, and anyhow his theolojy is sound because she questiond him thoroly on al th points of doctrin. And she nos his wife's peple and they ar most respectbl and th women ar al good houskeeprs. Mrs. Lynde says that sound doctrin in th man and good houskeepng in th womn make an ideal combnation for a minister's famly." Th new ministr and his wife wer a yung, plesnt-faced cupl, stil on ther honymoon, and ful of al good and butiful enthusiasms for ther chosen lifework. Avonlea opend its hart to them from th start. Old and yung liked th frank, cheerful yung man with his hy ideals, and th bryt, jentl litl lady ho asumed th mistress-ship of th manse. With Mrs. Allan Ann fel promtly and holehartdly in lov. She had discovrd anothr kindred spirit. "Mrs. Allan is perfectly lovly," she anounced one Sunday aftrnoon. "She's taken our class and she's a splendid teachr. She said ryt away she didnt think it was fair for th teachr to ask al th questions, and u no, Marilla, that is exactly wat I'v always thot. She said we cud ask her any question we liked and I askd evr so many. I'm good at askng questions, Marilla." "I beleve u" was Marilla's emfatic coment. "Nobody else askd any exept Ruby Gillis, and she askd if ther was to be a Sunday-scool picnic this sumr. I didnt think that was a very propr question to ask because it hadnt any conection with th lesn--th lesn was about Daniel in th lions' den--but Mrs. Allan just smiled and said she thot ther wud be. Mrs. Allan has a lovly smile; she has such EXQUISIT dimpls in her cheeks. I wish I had dimpls in my cheeks, Marilla. I'm not half so skinny as I was wen I came here, but I hav no dimpls yet. If I had perhaps I cud influence peple for good. Mrs. Allan said we ot always to try to influence othr peple for good. She talkd so nice about everything. I nevr new befor that relijn was such a cheerful thing. I always thot it was kind of melancly, but Mrs. Allan's isnt, and I'd like to be a Cristian if I cud be one like her. I wudnt want to be one like Mr. Superintendnt Bel." "It's very nauty of u to speak so about Mr. Bel," said Marilla severely. "Mr. Bel is a real good man." "O, of corse he's good," agreed Ann, "but he dosnt seem to get any comfrt out of it. If I cud be good I'd dance and sing al day because I was glad of it. I supose Mrs. Allan is too old to dance and sing and of corse it wudnt be dignifyd in a minister's wife. But I can just feel she's glad she's a Cristian and that she'd be one even if she cud get to hevn without it." "I supose we must hav Mr. and Mrs. Allan up to te somday soon," said Marilla reflectivly. "They'v been most evrywher but here. Let me se. Next Wensday wud be a good time to hav them. But dont say a word to Mathew about it, for if he new they wer comng he'd find som excuse to be away that day. He'd got so used to Mr. Bentley he didnt mind him, but he's going to find it hard to get aquaintd with a new ministr, and a new minister's wife wil frytn him to deth." "I'l be as secret as th ded," asured Ann. "But o, Marilla, wil u let me make a cake for th ocasion? I'd lov to do somthing for Mrs. Allan, and u no I can make a pretty good cake by this time." "U can make a layr cake," promisd Marilla. Monday and Tuesday gret preprations went on at Green Gables. Havng th ministr and his wife to te was a serius and importnt undrtaking, and Marilla was determnd not to be eclipsd by any of th Avonlea houskeeprs. Ann was wild with exitemnt and delyt. She talkd it al over with Diana Tuesday nyt in th twilyt, as they sat on th big red stones by th Dryad's Bubl and made rainbos in th watr with litl twigs dipd in fir balsam. "Everything is redy, Diana, exept my cake wich I'm to make in th mornng, and th baking-powdr biscuits wich Marilla wil make just befor tetime. I asure u, Diana, that Marilla and I hav had a busy two days of it. It's such a responsbility havng a minister's famly to te. I nevr went thru such an experience befor. U shud just se our pantry. It's a syt to behold. We'r going to hav jellid chikn and cold tong. We'r to hav two kinds of jelly, red and yelo, and wipd cream and lemn pie, and cherry pie, and thre kinds of cookis, and fruit cake, and Marilla's famus yelo plum preservs that she keeps especialy for ministrs, and pound cake and layr cake, and biscuits as aforsaid; and new bred and old both, in case th ministr is dyspeptic and cant eat new. Mrs. Lynde says ministrs ar dyspeptic, but I dont think Mr. Allan has been a ministr long enuf for it to hav had a bad efect on him. I just gro cold wen I think of my layr cake. O, Diana, wat if it shudnt be good! I dreamd last nyt that I was chased al around by a fearful goblin with a big layr cake for a hed." "It'l be good, al ryt," asured Diana, ho was a very comfrtbl sort of frend. "I'm sure that pece of th one u made that we had for lunch in Idlewild two weeks ago was perfectly elegnt." "Yes; but cakes hav such a teribl habit of turnng out bad just wen u especialy want them to be good," syd Ann, setng a particulrly wel-balsamed twig afloat. "Howevr, I supose I shal just hav to trust to Providnce and be careful to put in th flour. O, look, Diana, wat a lovly rainbo! Do u supose th dryad wil com out aftr we go away and take it for a scarf?" "U no ther is no such thing as a dryad," said Diana. Diana's mothr had found out about th Hauntd Wood and had been decidedly angry over it. As a result Diana had abstaind from any furthr imitativ flyts of imajnation and did not think it prudent to cultivate a spirit of belief even in harmless dryads. "But it's so esy to imajn ther is," said Ann. "Evry nyt befor I go to bed, I look out of my windo and wondr if th dryad is realy sitng here, combng her loks with th spring for a mirr. Somtimes I look for her footprints in th dew in th mornng. O, Diana, dont giv up yr faith in th dryad!" Wensday mornng came. Ann got up at sunrise because she was too exited to sleep. She had caut a severe cold in th hed by reasn of her dabbling in th spring on th preceding evenng; but nothing short of abslute numonia cud hav quenchd her intrest in culinry matrs that mornng. Aftr brekfast she proceedd to make her cake. Wen she finaly shut th ovn dor upon it she drew a long breth. "I'm sure I havnt forgotn anything this time, Marilla. But do u think it wil rise? Just supose perhaps th baking powdr isnt good? I used it out of th new can. And Mrs. Lynde says u can nevr be sure of getng good baking powdr nowadays wen everything is so adultrated. Mrs. Lynde says th Govrnmnt ot to take th matr up, but she says we'l nevr se th day wen a Tory Govrnmnt wil do it. Marilla, wat if that cake dosnt rise?" "We'l hav plenty without it" was Marilla's unimpassioned way of lookng at th subject. Th cake did rise, howevr, and came out of th ovn as lyt and fethry as goldn foam. Ann, flushd with delyt, clapd it togethr with layrs of ruby jelly and, in imajnation, saw Mrs. Allan eatng it and posbly askng for anothr pece! "U'l be using th best te set, of corse, Marilla," she said. "Can I fix th table with ferns and wild roses?" "I think that's al nonsnse," snifd Marilla. "In my opinion it's th eatables that matr and not flummery decrations." "Mrs. Barry had HER table decrated," said Ann, ho was not entirely giltless of th wisdm of th serpnt, "and th ministr paid her an elegnt complmnt. He said it was a feast for th y as wel as th palat." "Wel, do as u like," said Marilla, ho was quite determnd not to be surpasd by Mrs. Barry or anybody else. "Only mind u leve enuf room for th dishs and th food." Ann laid herself out to decrate in a manr and aftr a fashn that shud leve Mrs. Barry's nowher. Havng abundnce of roses and ferns and a very artistic taste of her own, she made that te table such a thing of buty that wen th ministr and his wife sat down to it they exclaimd in corus over it lovliness. "It's Anne's doings," said Marilla, grimly just; and Ann felt that Mrs. Allan's aproving smile was almost too much happiness for this world. Mathew was ther, havng been inveigld into th party only goodness and Ann new how. He had been in such a state of shyness and nervusness that Marilla had givn him up in despair, but Ann took him in hand so succesfuly that he now sat at th table in his best clothes and wite colr and talkd to th ministr not uninterestingly. He nevr said a word to Mrs. Allan, but that perhaps was not to be expectd. Al went merry as a marrij bel until Anne's layr cake was pasd. Mrs. Allan, havng alredy been helpd to a bewildrng variety, declined it. But Marilla, seing th disapointmnt on Anne's face, said smilingly: "O, u must take a pece of this, Mrs. Allan. Ann made it on purpos for u." "In that case I must sampl it," lafd Mrs. Allan, helpng herself to a plump triangl, as did also th ministr and Marilla. Mrs. Allan took a mouthful of hers and a most peculir expression crosd her face; not a word did she say, howevr, but stedily ate away at it. Marilla saw th expression and hasend to taste th cake. "Ann Shirly!" she exclaimd, "wat on erth did u put into that cake?" "Nothing but wat th recipe said, Marilla," cryd Ann with a look of anguish. "O, isnt it al ryt?" "Al ryt! It's simply horibl. Mr. Allan, dont try to eat it. Ann, taste it yrself. Wat flavoring did u use?" "Vanila," said Ann, her face scarlet with mortification aftr tasting th cake. "Only vanila. O, Marilla, it must hav been th baking powdr. I had my suspicions of that bak--" "Baking powdr fiddlesticks! Go and bring me th botl of vanila u used." Ann fled to th pantry and returnd with a smal botl partialy fild with a brown liquid and labeld yellowly, "Best Vanila." Marilla took it, uncorkd it, smeld it. "Mercy on us, Ann, u'v flavored that cake with ANODYNE LINIMENT. I broke th liniment botl last week and pord wat was left into an old emty vanila botl. I supose it's partly my falt--I shud hav warnd u--but for pity's sake wy cudnt u hav smeld it?" Ann disolvd into tears undr this dubl disgrace. "I cudnt--I had such a cold!" and with this she fairly fled to th gable chamber, wher she cast herself on th bed and wept as one ho refuses to be comfrtd. Presntly a lyt step soundd on th stairs and sombody entrd th room. "O, Marilla," sobd Ann, without lookng up, "I'm disgraced forevr. I shal nevr be able to liv this down. It wil get out--things always do get out in Avonlea. Diana wil ask me how my cake turnd out and I shal hav to tel her th truth. I shal always be pointd at as th girl ho flavored a cake with anodyne liniment. Gil--th boys in scool wil nevr get over lafng at it. O, Marilla, if u hav a spark of Cristian pity dont tel me that I must go down and wash th dishs aftr this. I'l wash them wen th ministr and his wife ar gon, but I canot evr look Mrs. Allan in th face again. Perhaps she'l think I tryd to poisn her. Mrs. Lynde says she nos an orfn girl ho tryd to poisn her benefactr. But th liniment isnt poisnus. It's ment to be taken internly--altho not in cakes. Wont u tel Mrs. Allan so, Marilla?" "Supose u jump up and tel her so yrself," said a merry voice. Ann flew up, to find Mrs. Allan standng by her bed, surveyng her with lafng ys. "My dear litl girl, u musnt cry like this," she said, jenuinly disturbd by Anne's trajic face. "Wy, it's al just a funny mistake that anybody myt make." "O, no, it takes me to make such a mistake," said Ann forlornly. "And I wantd to hav that cake so nice for u, Mrs. Allan." "Yes, I no, dear. And I asure u I apreciate yr kindness and thotfulness just as much as if it had turnd out al ryt. Now, u musnt cry any mor, but com down with me and sho me yr flowr gardn. Miss Cuthbert tels me u hav a litl plot al yr own. I want to se it, for I'm very much intrestd in flowrs." Ann permitd herself to be led down and comfrtd, reflectng that it was realy providential that Mrs. Allan was a kindred spirit. Nothing mor was said about th liniment cake, and wen th gests went away Ann found that she had enjoyd th evenng mor than cud hav been expectd, considrng that teribl incidnt. Nevrthless, she syd deeply. "Marilla, isnt it nice to think that tomoro is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" "I'l warant u'l make plenty in it," said Marilla. "I nevr saw yr beat for making mistakes, Ann." "Yes, and wel I no it," admitd Ann mornfuly. "But hav u evr noticed one encurajng thing about me, Marilla? I nevr make th same mistake twice." "I dont no as that's much benefit wen u'r always making new ones." "O, dont u se, Marilla? Ther must be a limit to th mistakes one persn can make, and wen I get to th end of them, then I'l be thru with them. That's a very comfrtng thot." "Wel, u'd betr go and giv that cake to th pigs," said Marilla. "It isnt fit for any human to eat, not even Jerry Boute." CHAPTR XXII Ann is Invited Out to Te "And wat ar yr ys popng out of yr hed about. Now?" askd Marilla, wen Ann had just com in from a run to th post ofice. "Hav u discovrd anothr kindred spirit?" Exitemnt hung around Ann like a garmnt, shon in her ys, kindld in evry featur. She had com dancing up th lane, like a wind-blown sprite, thru th melo sunshine and lazy shados of th August evenng. "No, Marilla, but o, wat do u think? I am invited to te at th manse tomoro aftrnoon! Mrs. Allan left th letr for me at th post ofice. Just look at it, Marilla. `Miss Ann Shirly, Green Gables.' That is th first time I was evr cald `Miss.' Such a thril as it gave me! I shal cherish it forevr among my choicest tresurs." "Mrs. Allan told me she ment to hav al th membrs of her Sunday-scool class to te in turn," said Marilla, regardng th wondrful event very cooly. "U neednt get in such a fever over it. Do lern to take things calmly, child." For Ann to take things calmly wud hav been to chanje her natur. Al "spirit and fire and dew," as she was, th plesurs and pains of life came to her with trebld intensity. Marilla felt this and was vagely trubld over it, realizing that th ups and downs of existnce wud probbly ber hardly on this impulsiv sol and not suficiently undrstandng that th equaly gret capacity for delyt myt mor than compnsate. Therfor Marilla conceved it to be her duty to dril Ann into a tranquil uniformity of disposition as imposbl and alien to her as to a dancing sunbeam in one of th brook shalos. She did not make much hedway, as she sorofuly admitd to herself. Th downfal of som dear hope or plan plunjd Ann into "deeps of afliction." Th fulfilmnt therof exaltd her to dizzy relms of delyt. Marilla had almost begun to despair of evr fashioning this waif of th world into her modl litl girl of demure manrs and prim deportmnt. Neithr wud she hav beleved that she realy liked Ann much betr as she was. Ann went to bed that nyt speechless with misry because Mathew had said th wind was round northeast and he feard it wud be a rainy day tomoro. Th rusl of th poplr leavs about th house worrid her, it soundd so like patrng raindrops, and th ful, faraway ror of th gulf, to wich she lisnd delytdly at othr times, lovng its stranje, sonrus, hauntng rythm, now seemd like a profesy of storm and disastr to a smal maidn ho particulrly wantd a fine day. Ann thot that th mornng wud nevr com. But al things hav an end, even nyts befor th day on wich u ar invited to take te at th manse. Th mornng, in spite of Matthew's predictions, was fine and Anne's spirits sord to ther hyest. "O, Marilla, ther is somthing in me today that makes me just lov evrybody I se," she exclaimd as she washd th brekfast dishs. "U dont no how good I feel! Wudnt it be nice if it cud last? I beleve I cud be a modl child if I wer just invited out to te evry day. But o, Marilla, it's a solem ocasion too. I feel so anxius. Wat if I shudnt behave proprly? U no I nevr had te at a manse befor, and I'm not sure that I no al th rules of etiqet, altho I'v been studying th rules givn in th Etiqet Departmnt of th Famly Herald evr since I came here. I'm so afraid I'l do somthing silly or forget to do somthing I shud do. Wud it be good manrs to take a secnd helpng of anything if u wantd to VERY much?" "Th trubl with u, Ann, is that u'r thinkng too much about yrself. U shud just think of Mrs. Allan and wat wud be nicest and most agreeabl to her," said Marilla, hitng for once in her life on a very sound and pithy pece of advice. Ann instntly realized this. "U ar ryt, Marilla. I'l try not to think about myself at al." Ann evidntly got thru her visit without any serius breach of "etiqet," for she came home thru th twilyt, undr a gret, hy-sprung sky gloried over with trails of safron and rosy cloud, in a beatified state of mind and told Marilla al about it happily, sitng on th big red-sandstone slab at th kichn dor with her tired curly hed in Marilla's gingm lap. A cool wind was bloing down over th long harvest fields from th rims of firry westrn hils and wislng thru th poplrs. One clear star hung over th orchrd and th fireflys wer flitng over in Lover's Lane, in and out among th ferns and ruslng bous. Ann wachd them as she talkd and somhow felt that wind and stars and fireflys wer al tangld up togethr into somthing unutrbly sweet and enchantng. "O, Marilla, I'v had a most FASNATING time. I feel that I hav not livd in vain and I shal always feel like that even if I shud nevr be invited to te at a manse again. Wen I got ther Mrs. Allan met me at th dor. She was dresd in th sweetst dress of pale-pink organdy, with dozns of frils and elbo sleves, and she lookd just like a seraph. I realy think I'd like to be a minister's wife wen I gro up, Marilla. A ministr mytnt mind my red hair because he wudnt be thinkng of such worldly things. But then of corse one wud hav to be natrly good and I'l nevr be that, so I supose ther's no use in thinkng about it. Som peple ar natrly good, u no, and othrs ar not. I'm one of th othrs. Mrs. Lynde says I'm ful of orijnl sin. No matr how hard I try to be good I can nevr make such a success of it as those ho ar natrly good. It's a good deal like jeometry, I expect. But dont u think th tryng so hard ot to count for somthing? Mrs. Allan is one of th natrly good peple. I lov her passionatly. U no ther ar som peple, like Mathew and Mrs. Allan that u can lov ryt off without any trubl. And ther ar othrs, like Mrs. Lynde, that u hav to try very hard to lov. U no u OT to lov them because they no so much and ar such activ workrs in th church, but u hav to keep remindng yrself of it al th time or else u forget. Ther was anothr litl girl at th manse to te, from th Wite Sands Sunday scool. Her name was Laurette Bradley, and she was a very nice litl girl. Not exactly a kindred spirit, u no, but stil very nice. We had an elegnt te, and I think I kept al th rules of etiqet pretty wel. Aftr te Mrs. Allan playd and sang and she got Lauretta and me to sing too. Mrs. Allan says I hav a good voice and she says I must sing in th Sunday-scool coir aftr this. U cant think how I was thrild at th mere thot. I'v longd so to sing in th Sunday-scool coir, as Diana dos, but I feard it was an onr I cud nevr aspire to. Lauretta had to go home erly because ther is a big concert in th Wite Sands Hotel tonyt and her sistr is to recite at it. Lauretta says that th Americns at th hotel giv a concert evry fortnyt in aid of th Charlottetown hospitl, and they ask lots of th Wite Sands peple to recite. Lauretta said she expectd to be askd herself somday. I just gazed at her in aw. Aftr she had gon Mrs. Allan and I had a hart-to-hart talk. I told her everything--about Mrs. Tomas and th twins and Kati Maurice and Violetta and comng to Green Gables and my trubls over jeometry. And wud u beleve it, Marilla? Mrs. Allan told me she was a dunce at jeometry too. U dont no how that encurajd me. Mrs. Lynde came to th manse just befor I left, and wat do u think, Marilla? Th trusts hav hired a new teachr and it's a lady. Her name is Miss Muriel Stacy. Isnt that a romantic name? Mrs. Lynde says they'v nevr had a female teachr in Avonlea befor and she thinks it is a danjerus inovation. But I think it wil be splendid to hav a lady teachr, and I realy dont se how I'm going to liv thru th two weeks befor scool begins. I'm so impatient to se her." CHAPTR XXIII Ann Coms to Grief in an Afair of Onr Ann had to liv thru mor than two weeks, as it hapnd. Almost a month havng elapsd since th liniment cake episode, it was hy time for her to get into fresh trubl of som sort, litl mistakes, such as absnt-minddly emtying a pan of skim milk into a basket of yarn bals in th pantry insted of into th pigs' buket, and walkng clean over th ej of th log brij into th brook wile rapd in imajnativ revri, not realy being worth countng. A week aftr th te at th manse Diana Barry gave a party. "Smal and select," Ann asured Marilla. "Just th girls in our class." They had a very good time and nothing untoward hapnd until aftr te, wen they found themselvs in th Barry gardn, a litl tired of al ther games and ripe for any enticing form of mischif wich myt presnt itself. This presntly took th form of "daring." Daring was th fashnbl amusemnt among th Avonlea smal fry just then. It had begun among th boys, but soon spred to th girls, and al th silly things that wer don in Avonlea that sumr because th doers therof wer "dared" to do them wud fil a book by themselvs. First of al Carrie Sloane dared Ruby Gillis to climb to a certn point in th huje old wilo tre befor th front dor; wich Ruby Gillis, albeit in mortl dred of th fat green catrpilrs with wich said tre was infestd and with th fear of her mothr befor her ys if she shud ter her new musln dress, nimbly did, to th discomfitur of th aforsaid Carrie Sloane. Then Josi Pye dared Jane Andrews to hop on her left leg around th gardn without stopng once or putng her ryt foot to th ground; wich Jane Andrews gamely tryd to do, but gave out at th third cornr and had to confess herself defeatd. Josie's triumf being rathr mor pronounced than good taste permitd, Ann Shirly dared her to walk along th top of th bord fence wich boundd th gardn to th east. Now, to "walk" bord fences requires mor skil and stediness of hed and heel than one myt supose ho has nevr tryd it. But Josi Pye, if deficient in som qualitis that make for popularity, had at least a natrl and inborn gift, duly cultivated, for walkng bord fences. Josi walkd th Barry fence with an airy unconcern wich seemd to imply that a litl thing like that wasnt worth a "dare." Reluctnt admration greetd her exploit, for most of th othr girls cud apreciate it, havng sufrd many things themselvs in ther efrts to walk fences. Josi desendd from her perch, flushd with victry, and dartd a defiant glance at Ann. Ann tosd her red braids. "I dont think it's such a very wondrful thing to walk a litl, lo, bord fence," she said. "I new a girl in Marysville ho cud walk th ridgepole of a roof." "I dont beleve it," said Josi flatly. "I dont beleve anybody cud walk a ridgepole. U cudnt, anyhow." "Cudnt I?" cryd Ann rashly. "Then I dare u to do it," said Josi defiantly. "I dare u to climb up ther and walk th ridgepole of Mr. Barry's kichn roof." Ann turnd pale, but ther was clearly only one thing to be don. She walkd toward th house, wher a ladr was leanng against th kichn roof. Al th fifth-class girls said, "O!" partly in exitemnt, partly in dismay. "Dont u do it, Ann," entreated Diana. "U'l fal off and be kild. Nevr mind Josi Pye. It isnt fair to dare anybody to do anything so danjerus." "I must do it. My onr is at stake," said Ann solemly. "I shal walk that ridgepole, Diana, or perish in th atemt. If I am kild u ar to hav my perl bead ring." Ann climbd th ladr amid brethless silence, gaind th ridgepole, balanced herself uprightly on that precarius footng, and startd to walk along it, dizzily concius that she was uncomfrtbly hy up in th world and that walkng ridgepoles was not a thing in wich yr imajnation helpd u out much. Nevrthless, she manajd to take sevrl steps befor th catastrofe came. Then she swayd, lost her balance, stumbld, stagrd, and fel, sliding down over th sun-baked roof and crashng off it thru th tangl of Virjinia creepr beneath-- al befor th dismayd circl belo cud giv a simltaneus, terifyd shriek. If Ann had tumbld off th roof on th side up wich she had asendd Diana wud probbly hav falen er to th perl bead ring then and ther. Fortunatly she fel on th othr side, wher th roof extendd down over th porch so nearly to th ground that a fal therefrom was a much less serius thing. Nevrthless, wen Diana and th othr girls had rushd franticly around th house--exept Ruby Gillis, ho remaind as if rootd to th ground and went into hysterics--they found Ann lyng al wite and limp among th rek and ruin of th Virjinia creepr. "Ann, ar u kild?" shriekd Diana, throing herself on her nes beside her frend. "O, Ann, dear Ann, speak just one word to me and tel me if u'r kild." To th imense relief of al th girls, and especialy of Josi Pye, ho, in spite of lak of imajnation, had been sezed with horibl visions of a futur brandd as th girl ho was th cause of Ann Shirley's erly and trajic deth, Ann sat dizzily up and ansrd uncertnly: "No, Diana, I am not kild, but I think I am rendrd unconcius." "Wher?" sobd Carrie Sloane. "O, wher, Ann?" Befor Ann cud ansr Mrs. Barry apeard on th sene. At syt of her Ann tryd to scrambl to her feet, but sank bak again with a sharp litl cry of pain. "Wat's th matr? Wher hav u hurt yrself?" demandd Mrs. Barry. "My ankl," gaspd Ann. "O, Diana, plese find yr fathr and ask him to take me home. I no I can nevr walk ther. And I'm sure I cudnt hop so far on one foot wen Jane cudnt even hop around th gardn." Marilla was out in th orchrd pikng a panful of sumr apls wen she saw Mr. Barry comng over th log brij and up th slope, with Mrs. Barry beside him and a hole procession of litl girls trailng aftr him. In his arms he carrid Ann, hos hed lay limply against his sholdr. At that moment Marilla had a revlation. In th sudn stab of fear that pierced her very hart she realized wat Ann had com to mean to her. She wud hav admitd that she liked Ann--nay, that she was very fond of Ann. But now she new as she hurrid wildly down th slope that Ann was dearr to her than anything else on erth. "Mr. Barry, wat has hapnd to her?" she gaspd, mor wite and shaken than th self-containd, sensbl Marilla had been for many years. Ann herself ansrd, liftng her hed. "Dont be very frytnd, Marilla. I was walkng th ridgepole and I fel off. I expect I hav spraind my ankl. But, Marilla, I myt hav broken my nek. Let us look on th bryt side of things." "I myt hav nown u'd go and do somthing of th sort wen I let u go to that party," said Marilla, sharp and shrewish in her very relief. "Bring her in here, Mr. Barry, and lay her on th sofa. Mercy me, th child has gon and faintd!" It was quite tru. Overcom by th pain of her injry, Ann had one mor of her wishs grantd to her. She had faintd ded away. Mathew, hastily sumnd from th harvest field, was straitway dispachd for th doctr, ho in du time came, to discovr that th injry was mor serius than they had suposed. Anne's ankl was broken. That nyt, wen Marilla went up to th east gable, wher a wite-faced girl was lyng, a plaintiv voice greetd her from th bed. "Arnt u very sorry for me, Marilla?" "It was yr own falt," said Marilla, twichng down th blind and lytng a lamp. "And that is just wy u shud be sorry for me," said Ann, "because th thot that it is al my own falt is wat makes it so hard. If I cud blame it on anybody I wud feel so much betr. But wat wud u hav don, Marilla, if u had been dared to walk a ridgepole?" "I'd hav stayd on good firm ground and let them dare away. Such absurdity!" said Marilla. Ann syd. "But u hav such strength of mind, Marilla. I havnt. I just felt that I cudnt ber Josi Pye's scorn. She wud hav croed over me al my life. And I think I hav been punishd so much that u neednt be very cross with me, Marilla. It's not a bit nice to faint, aftr al. And th doctr hurt me dredfuly wen he was setng my ankl. I wont be able to go around for six or sevn weeks and I'l miss th new lady teachr. She wont be new any mor by th time I'm able to go to scool. And Gil-- evrybody wil get ahed of me in class. O, I am an aflictd mortl. But I'l try to ber it al bravely if only u wont be cross with me, Marilla." "Ther, ther, I'm not cross," said Marilla. "U'r an unlucky child, ther's no dout about that; but as u say, u'l hav th sufrng of it. Here now, try and eat som supr." "Isnt it fortunat I'v got such an imajnation?" said Ann. "It wil help me thru splendidly, I expect. Wat do peple ho havnt any imajnation do wen they brek ther bones, do u supose, Marilla?" Ann had good reasn to bless her imajnation many a time and oft during th tedius sevn weeks that folod. But she was not solely dependnt on it. She had many visitrs and not a day pasd without one or mor of th scoolgirls dropng in to bring her flowrs and books and tel her al th hapnngs in th juvenl world of Avonlea. "Evrybody has been so good and kind, Marilla," syd Ann happily, on th day wen she cud first limp across th flor. "It isnt very plesnt to be laid up; but ther is a bryt side to it, Marilla. U find out how many frends u hav. Wy, even Superintendnt Bel came to se me, and he's realy a very fine man. Not a kindred spirit, of corse; but stil I like him and I'm awfuly sorry I evr criticized his prayrs. I beleve now he realy dos mean them, only he has got into th habit of sayng them as if he didnt. He cud get over that if he'd take a litl trubl. I gave him a good brod hint. I told him how hard I tryd to make my own litl privat prayrs intrestng. He told me al about th time he broke his ankl wen he was a boy. It dos seem so stranje to think of Superintendnt Bel evr being a boy. Even my imajnation has its limits, for I cant imajn THAT. Wen I try to imajn him as a boy I se him with gray wiskrs and spectacls, just as he looks in Sunday scool, only smal. Now, it's so esy to imajn Mrs. Allan as a litl girl. Mrs. Allan has been to se me forteen times. Isnt that somthing to be proud of, Marilla? Wen a minister's wife has so many claims on her time! She is such a cheerful persn to hav visit u, too. She nevr tels u it's yr own falt and she hopes u'l be a betr girl on acount of it. Mrs. Lynde always told me that wen she came to se me; and she said it in a kind of way that made me feel she myt hope I'd be a betr girl but didnt realy beleve I wud. Even Josi Pye came to se me. I receved her as politely as I cud, because I think she was sorry she dared me to walk a ridgepole. If I had been kild she wud had to carry a dark burdn of remorse al her life. Diana has been a faithful frend. She's been over evry day to cheer my lonely pilo. But o, I shal be so glad wen I can go to scool for I'v herd such exiting things about th new teachr. Th girls al think she is perfectly sweet. Diana says she has th lovliest fair curly hair and such fasnating ys. She dresses butifuly, and her sleve pufs ar bigr than anybody else's in Avonlea. Evry othr Friday aftrnoon she has recitations and evrybody has to say a pece or take part in a dialog. O, it's just glorius to think of it. Josi Pye says she hates it but that is just because Josi has so litl imajnation. Diana and Ruby Gillis and Jane Andrews ar preparing a dialog, cald `A Mornng Visit,' for next Friday. And th Friday aftrnoons they dont hav recitations Miss Stacy takes them al to th woods for a `field' day and they study ferns and flowrs and birds. And they hav fysicl cultur exrcises evry mornng and evenng. Mrs. Lynde says she nevr herd of such goings on and it al coms of havng a lady teachr. But I think it must be splendid and I beleve I shal find that Miss Stacy is a kindred spirit." "Ther's one thing plan to be seen, Ann," said Marilla, "and that is that yr fal off th Barry roof hasnt injrd yr tong at al." CHAPTR XXIV Miss Stacy and Her Pupils Get Up a Concert It was October again wen Ann was redy to go bak to scool--a glorius October, al red and gold, with melo mornngs wen th vallis wer fild with delicat mists as if th spirit of autm had pord them in for th sun to drain--amethyst, perl, silvr, rose, and smoke-blu. Th dews wer so hevy that th fields glisnd like cloth of silvr and ther wer such heaps of ruslng leavs in th holos of many-stemd woods to run crisply thru. Th Birch Path was a canopy of yelo and th ferns wer sear and brown al along it. Ther was a tang in th very air that inspired th harts of smal maidns tripng, unlike snails, swiftly and wilngly to scool; and it WAS jolly to be bak again at th litl brown desk beside Diana, with Ruby Gillis nodng across th ile and Carrie Sloane sendng up notes and Julia Bel pasng a "chew" of gum down from th bak seat. Ann drew a long breth of happiness as she sharpnd her pencil and aranjed her pictur cards in her desk. Life was certnly very intrestng. In th new teachr she found anothr tru and helpful frend. Miss Stacy was a bryt, sympathetic yung womn with th happy gift of winng and holdng th afections of her pupils and bringng out th best that was in them mently and moraly. Ann expandd like a flowr undr this holesm influence and carrid home to th admiring Mathew and th criticl Marilla gloing acounts of scoolwork and aims. "I lov Miss Stacy with my hole hart, Marilla. She is so ladylike and she has such a sweet voice. Wen she pronounces my name I feel INSTINCTIVLY that she's spelng it with an E. We had recitations this aftrnoon. I just wish u cud hav been ther to hear me recite `Mary, Queen of Scots.' I just put my hole sol into it. Ruby Gillis told me comng home that th way I said th line, `Now for my father's arm,' she said, `my woman's hart farewel,' just made her blod run cold." "Wel now, u myt recite it for me som of these days, out in th barn," sujestd Mathew. "Of corse I wil," said Ann meditativly, "but I wont be able to do it so wel, I no. It wont be so exiting as it is wen u hav a hole schoolful befor u hangng brethlesly on yr words. I no I wont be able to make yr blod run cold." "Mrs. Lynde says it made HER blod run cold to se th boys climbng to th very tops of those big tres on Bell's hil aftr crows' nests last Friday," said Marilla. "I wondr at Miss Stacy for encurajng it." "But we wantd a crow's nest for natur study," explaind Ann. "That was on our field aftrnoon. Field aftrnoons ar splendid, Marilla. And Miss Stacy explains everything so butifuly. We hav to rite compositions on our field aftrnoons and I rite th best ones." "It's very vain of u to say so then. U'd betr let yr teachr say it." "But she DID say it, Marilla. And indeed I'm not vain about it. How can I be, wen I'm such a dunce at jeometry? Altho I'm realy beginng to se thru it a litl, too. Miss Stacy makes it so clear. Stil, I'l nevr be good at it and I asure u it is a humblng reflection. But I lov riting compositions. Mostly Miss Stacy lets us choose our own subjects; but next week we ar to rite a composition on som remarkbl persn. It's hard to choose among so many remarkbl peple ho hav livd. Musnt it be splendid to be remarkbl and hav compositions ritn about u aftr u'r ded? O, I wud dearly lov to be remarkbl. I think wen I gro up I'l be a traind nurse and go with th Red Crosses to th field of batl as a mesnjr of mercy. That is, if I dont go out as a foren missionry. That wud be very romantic, but one wud hav to be very good to be a missionry, and that wud be a stumblng blok. We hav fysicl cultur exrcises evry day, too. They make u graceful and promote dijestion." "Promote fiddlesticks!" said Marilla, ho onestly thot it was al nonsnse. But al th field aftrnoons and recitation Fridays and fysicl cultur contortions paled befor a project wich Miss Stacy brot forwrd in Novembr. This was that th scolrs of Avonlea scool shud get up a concert and hold it in th hal on Crismas Nyt, for th laudbl purpos of helpng to pay for a scoolhouse flag. Th pupils one and al taking graciusly to this plan, th preprations for a program wer begun at once. And of al th exited performrs-elect non was so exited as Ann Shirly, ho threw herself into th undrtaking hart and sol, hamprd as she was by Marilla's disaproval. Marilla thot it al rank foolishness. "It's just filng yr heds up with nonsnse and taking time that ot to be put on yr lesns," she grumbld. "I dont aprove of children's getng up concerts and racing about to practises. It makes them vain and forwrd and fond of gadding." "But think of th worthy object," pleadd Ann. "A flag wil cultivate a spirit of patriotism, Marilla." "Fuj! Ther's precius litl patriotism in th thots of any of u. Al u want is a good time." "Wel, wen u can combine patriotism and fun, isnt it al ryt? Of corse it's real nice to be getng up a concert. We'r going to hav six choruses and Diana is to sing a solo. I'm in two dialogs--`Th Society for th Supression of Gossip' and `Th Fairy Queen.' Th boys ar going to hav a dialog too. And I'm to hav two recitations, Marilla. I just trembl wen I think of it, but it's a nice thrilly kind of trembl. And we'r to hav a tablau at th last--`Faith, Hope and Charity.' Diana and Ruby and I ar to be in it, al draped in wite with floing hair. I'm to be Hope, with my hands claspd--so--and my ys upliftd. I'm going to practis my recitations in th garet. Dont be alarmd if u hear me groanng. I hav to groan heartrendingly in one of them, and it's realy hard to get up a good artistic groan, Marilla. Josi Pye is sulky because she didnt get th part she wantd in th dialog. She wantd to be th fairy queen. That wud hav been ridiculus, for ho evr herd of a fairy queen as fat as Josi? Fairy queens must be slendr. Jane Andrews is to be th queen and I am to be one of her maids of onr. Josi says she thinks a red-haird fairy is just as ridiculus as a fat one, but I do not let myself mind wat Josi says. I'm to hav a reath of wite roses on my hair and Ruby Gillis is going to lend me her sliprs because I havnt any of my own. It's necesry for fairis to hav sliprs, u no. U cudnt imajn a fairy werng boots, cud u? Especialy with copr toes? We ar going to decrate th hal with creepng spruce and fir motos with pink tissu-paper roses in them. And we ar al to march in two by two aftr th audience is seatd, wile Ema Wite plays a march on th orgn. O, Marilla, I no u ar not so enthusiastic about it as I am, but dont u hope yr litl Ann wil distinguish herself?" "Al I hope is that u'l behave yrself. I'l be hartily glad wen al this fuss is over and u'l be able to setl down. U ar simply good for nothing just now with yr hed stufd ful of dialogs and groans and tableaus. As for yr tong, it's a marvl it's not clean worn out." Ann syd and betook herself to th bak yard, over wich a yung new moon was shining thru th leafless poplr bous from an apl-green westrn sky, and wher Mathew was splitng wood. Ann perchd herself on a blok and talkd th concert over with him, sure of an apreciativ and sympathetic lisnr in this instnce at least. "Wel now, I rekn it's going to be a pretty good concert. And I expect u'l do yr part fine," he said, smiling down into her eagr, vivacius litl face. Ann smiled bak at him. Those two wer th best of frends and Mathew thankd his stars many a time and oft that he had nothing to do with bringng her up. That was Marilla's exclusiv duty; if it had been his he wud hav been worrid over frequent conflicts between inclnation and said duty. As it was, he was fre to, "spoil Ann"--Marilla's frasing--as much as he liked. But it was not such a bad aranjemnt aftr al; a litl "apreciation" somtimes dos quite as much good as al th concientius "bringng up" in th world. CHAPTR XXV Mathew Insists on Pufd Sleves Mathew was havng a bad ten minuts of it. He had com into th kichn, in th twilyt of a cold, gray Decembr evenng, and had sat down in th woodbox cornr to take off his hevy boots, unconcius of th fact that Ann and a bevy of her scoolmates wer havng a practis of "Th Fairy Queen" in th sitng room. Presntly they came troopng thru th hal and out into th kichn, lafng and chatrng gaily. They did not se Mathew, ho shrank bashfully bak into th shados beyond th woodbox with a boot in one hand and a bootjack in th othr, and he wachd them shyly for th aforsaid ten minuts as they put on caps and jakets and talkd about th dialog and th concert. Ann stood among them, bryt yd and anmated as they; but Mathew sudnly became concius that ther was somthing about her difrnt from her mates. And wat worrid Mathew was that th difrnce impresd him as being somthing that shud not exist. Ann had a brytr face, and bigr, starrier ys, and mor delicat featurs than th othr; even shy, unobservant Mathew had lernd to take note of these things; but th difrnce that disturbd him did not consist in any of these respects. Then in wat did it consist? Mathew was hauntd by this question long aftr th girls had gon, arm in arm, down th long, hard-frozen lane and Ann had betaken herself to her books. He cud not refer it to Marilla, ho, he felt, wud be quite sure to snif scornfuly and remark that th only difrnce she saw between Ann and th othr girls was that they somtimes kept ther tongs quiet wile Ann nevr did. This, Mathew felt, wud be no gret help. He had recorse to his pipe that evenng to help him study it out, much to Marilla's disgust. Aftr two ours of smoking and hard reflection Mathew arived at a solution of his problm. Ann was not dresd like th othr girls! Th mor Mathew thot about th matr th mor he was convinced that Ann nevr had been dresd like th othr girls--nevr since she had com to Green Gables. Marilla kept her clothed in plan, dark dresses, al made aftr th same unvarying patrn. If Mathew new ther was such a thing as fashn in dress it was as much as he did; but he was quite sure that Anne's sleves did not look at al like th sleves th othr girls wor. He recald th clustr of litl girls he had seen around her that evenng--al gay in waists of red and blu and pink and wite--and he wondrd wy Marilla always kept her so plainly and soberly gowned. Of corse, it must be al ryt. Marilla new best and Marilla was bringng her up. Probbly som wise, inscrutabl motiv was to be servd therby. But surely it wud do no harm to let th child hav one pretty dress--somthing like Diana Barry always wor. Mathew decided that he wud giv her one; that surely cud not be objectd to as an unwarantd putng in of his or. Crismas was only a fortnyt off. A nice new dress wud be th very thing for a presnt. Mathew, with a sy of satisfaction, put away his pipe and went to bed, wile Marilla opend al th dors and aird th house. Th very next evenng Mathew betook himself to Carmody to by th dress, determnd to get th worst over and hav don with it. It wud be, he felt asured, no trifling ordeal. Ther wer som things Mathew cud by and prove himself no mean bargainer; but he new he wud be at th mercy of shopkeeprs wen it came to byng a girl's dress. Aftr much cogitation Mathew resolvd to go to Samul Lawson's stor insted of Wiliam Blair's. To be sure, th Cuthberts always had gon to Wiliam Blair's; it was almost as much a matr of concience with them as to atend th Presbyterian church and vote Conservativ. But Wiliam Blair's two dautrs frequently waitd on custmrs ther and Mathew held them in abslute dred. He cud contrive to deal with them wen he new exactly wat he wantd and cud point it out; but in such a matr as this, requiring explnation and consltation, Mathew felt that he must be sure of a man behind th countr. So he wud go to Lawson's, wher Samul or his son wud wait on him. Alas! Mathew did not no that Samul, in th recent expansion of his busness, had set up a lady clerk also; she was a nece of his wife's and a very dashng yung persn indeed, with a huje, droopng pompadour, big, rolng brown ys, and a most extensiv and bewildrng smile. She was dresd with exeedng smartness and wor sevrl bangl bracelets that glitrd and ratld and tinkld with evry movemnt of her hands. Mathew was covrd with confusion at findng her ther at al; and those bangls completely rekd his wits at one fel swoop. "Wat can I do for u this evenng, Mr. Cuthbert?" Miss Lucilla Harris inquired, briskly and ingratiatingly, tapng th countr with both hands. "Hav u any--any--any--wel now, say any gardn rakes?" stamrd Mathew. Miss Harris lookd somwat surprised, as wel she myt, to hear a man inquiring for gardn rakes in th midl of Decembr. "I beleve we hav one or two left over," she said, "but they'r upstairs in th lumbr room. I'l go and se." During her absnce Mathew colectd his scatrd senses for anothr efrt. Wen Miss Harris returnd with th rake and cheerfuly inquired: "Anything else tonyt, Mr. Cuthbert?" Mathew took his curaj in both hands and replyd: "Wel now, since u sujest it, I myt as wel--take--that is--look at--by som--som hayseed." Miss Harris had herd Mathew Cuthbert cald od. She now concluded that he was entirely crazy. "We only keep hayseed in th spring," she explaind loftily. "We'v non on hand just now." "O, certnly--certnly--just as u say," stamrd unhappy Mathew, sezing th rake and making for th dor. At th threshold he reclectd that he had not paid for it and he turnd misrbly bak. Wile Miss Harris was countng out his chanje he rallid his powrs for a final desprat atemt. "Wel now--if it isnt too much trubl--I myt as wel--that is--I'd like to look at--at--som sugr." "Wite or brown?" querid Miss Harris patiently. "O--wel now--brown," said Mathew feebly. "Ther's a barel of it over ther," said Miss Harris, shaking her bangls at it. "It's th only kind we hav." "I'l--I'l take twenty pounds of it," said Mathew, with beads of perspration standng on his forhed. Mathew had drivn halfway home befor he was his own man again. It had been a grusm experience, but it servd him ryt, he thot, for comitng th heresy of going to a stranje stor. Wen he reachd home he hid th rake in th tool house, but th sugr he carrid in to Marilla. "Brown sugr!" exclaimd Marilla. "Watevr posesd u to get so much? U no I nevr use it exept for th hired man's porij or blak fruit cake. Jerry's gon and I'v made my cake long ago. It's not good sugr, eithr--it's corse and dark--Wiliam Blair dosnt usuly keep sugr like that." "I--I thot it myt com in handy somtime," said Mathew, making good his escape. Wen Mathew came to think th matr over he decided that a womn was required to cope with th situation. Marilla was out of th question. Mathew felt sure she wud thro cold watr on his project at once. Remaind only Mrs. Lynde; for of no othr womn in Avonlea wud Mathew hav dared to ask advice. To Mrs. Lynde he went acordngly, and that good lady promtly took th matr out of th harasd man's hands. "Pik out a dress for u to giv Ann? To be sure I wil. I'm going to Carmody tomoro and I'l atend to it. Hav u somthing particulr in mind? No? Wel, I'l just go by my own jujmnt then. I beleve a nice rich brown wud just suit Ann, and Wiliam Blair has som new gloria in that's real pretty. Perhaps u'd like me to make it up for her, too, seing that if Marilla was to make it Ann wud probbly get wind of it befor th time and spoil th surprise? Wel, I'l do it. No, it isnt a mite of trubl. I like sewng. I'l make it to fit my nece, Jenny Gillis, for she and Ann ar as like as two pes as far as figr gos." "Wel now, I'm much oblijed," said Mathew, "and--and--I duno--but I'd like--I think they make th sleves difrnt nowadays to wat they used to be. If it wudnt be askng too much I--I'd like them made in th new way." "Pufs? Of corse. U neednt worry a spek mor about it, Mathew. I'l make it up in th very latest fashn," said Mrs. Lynde. To herself she add wen Mathew had gon: "It'l be a real satisfaction to se that poor child werng somthing decent for once. Th way Marilla dresses her is positivly ridiculus, that's wat, and I'v ached to tel her so plainly a dozn times. I'v held my tong tho, for I can se Marilla dosnt want advice and she thinks she nos mor about bringng children up than I do for al she's an old maid. But that's always th way. Folks that has brot up children no that ther's no hard and fast method in th world that'l suit evry child. But them as nevr hav think it's al as plan and esy as Rule of Thre--just set yr thre terms down so fashn, and th sum'll work out corect. But flesh and blod dont com undr th hed of arithmetic and that's wher Marilla Cuthbert makes her mistake. I supose she's tryng to cultivate a spirit of humility in Ann by dresng her as she dos; but it's mor likely to cultivate envy and discontent. I'm sure th child must feel th difrnce between her clothes and th othr girls'. But to think of Mathew taking notice of it! That man is waking up aftr being asleep for over sixty years." Marilla new al th foloing fortnyt that Mathew had somthing on his mind, but wat it was she cud not gess, until Crismas Eve, wen Mrs. Lynde brot up th new dress. Marilla behaved pretty wel on th hole, altho it is very likely she distrustd Mrs. Lynde's diplmatic explnation that she had made th dress because Mathew was afraid Ann wud find out about it too soon if Marilla made it. "So this is wat Mathew has been lookng so mysterius over and grinng about to himself for two weeks, is it?" she said a litl stifly but tolrntly. "I new he was up to som foolishness. Wel, I must say I dont think Ann needd any mor dresses. I made her thre good, warm, servicebl ones this fal, and anything mor is sheer extravagnce. Ther's enuf material in those sleves alone to make a waist, I declare ther is. U'l just pampr Anne's vanity, Mathew, and she's as vain as a pecok now. Wel, I hope she'l be satisfyd at last, for I no she's been hankrng aftr those silly sleves evr since they came in, altho she nevr said a word aftr th first. Th pufs hav been getng bigr and mor ridiculus ryt along; they'r as big as baloons now. Next year anybody ho wers them wil hav to go thru a dor sideways." Crismas mornng broke on a butiful wite world. It had been a very mild Decembr and peple had lookd forwrd to a green Crismas; but just enuf sno fel softly in th nyt to transfigure Avonlea. Ann peepd out from her frostd gable windo with delytd ys. Th firs in th Hauntd Wood wer al fethry and wondrful; th birchs and wild cherry tres wer outlined in perl; th plowd fields wer strechs of snowy dimpls; and ther was a crisp tang in th air that was glorius. Ann ran downstairs singng until her voice reechoed thru Green Gables. "Merry Crismas, Marilla! Merry Crismas, Mathew! Isnt it a lovly Crismas? I'm so glad it's wite. Any othr kind of Crismas dosnt seem real, dos it? I dont like green Crismases. They'r not green-- they'r just nasty faded browns and grays. Wat makes peple cal them green? Wy--wy--Mathew, is that for me? O, Mathew!" Mathew had sheepishly unfoldd th dress from its paper swathings and held it out with a deprecatory glance at Marilla, ho feind to be contemtuusly filng th tepot, but nevrthless wachd th sene out of th cornr of her y with a rathr intrestd air. Ann took th dress and lookd at it in revrnt silence. O, how pretty it was--a lovly soft brown gloria with al th gloss of silk; a skirt with dainty frils and shirrings; a waist elabratly pintucked in th most fashnbl way, with a litl rufl of filmy lace at th nek. But th sleves--they wer th crownng glory! Long elbo cufs, and abov them two butiful pufs divided by ros of shirring and bos of brown-silk ribn. "That's a Crismas presnt for u, Ann," said Mathew shyly. "Wy--wy--Ann, dont u like it? Wel now--wel now." For Anne's ys had sudnly fild with tears. "Like it! O, Mathew!" Ann laid th dress over a chair and claspd her hands. "Mathew, it's perfectly exquisit. O, I can nevr thank u enuf. Look at those sleves! O, it seems to me this must be a happy dream." "Wel, wel, let us hav brekfast," intruptd Marilla. "I must say, Ann, I dont think u needd th dress; but since Mathew has got it for u, se that u take good care of it. Ther's a hair ribn Mrs. Lynde left for u. It's brown, to mach th dress. Com now, sit in." "I dont se how I'm going to eat brekfast," said Ann rapturusly. "Brekfast seems so comnplace at such an exiting moment. I'd rathr feast my ys on that dress. I'm so glad that pufd sleves ar stil fashnbl. It did seem to me that I'd nevr get over it if they went out befor I had a dress with them. I'd nevr hav felt quite satisfyd, u se. It was lovly of Mrs. Lynde to giv me th ribn too. I feel that I ot to be a very good girl indeed. It's at times like this I'm sorry I'm not a modl litl girl; and I always resolv that I wil be in futur. But somhow it's hard to carry out yr reslutions wen iresistbl temtations com. Stil, I realy wil make an extra efrt aftr this." Wen th comnplace brekfast was over Diana apeard, crosng th wite log brij in th holo, a gay litl figr in her crimsn ulstr. Ann flew down th slope to meet her. "Merry Crismas, Diana! And o, it's a wondrful Crismas. I'v somthing splendid to sho u. Mathew has givn me th lovliest dress, with SUCH sleves. I cudnt even imajn any nicer." "I'v got somthing mor for u," said Diana brethlesly. "Here-- this box. Ant Josefine sent us out a big box with evr so many things in it--and this is for u. I'd hav brot it over last nyt, but it didnt com until aftr dark, and I nevr feel very comfrtbl comng thru th Hauntd Wood in th dark now." Ann opend th box and peepd in. First a card with "For th Ann-girl and Merry Crismas," ritn on it; and then, a pair of th daintiest litl kid sliprs, with beadd toes and satn bos and glisnng bukls. "O," said Ann, "Diana, this is too much. I must be dreamng." "I cal it providential," said Diana. "U wont hav to boro Ruby's sliprs now, and that's a blesng, for they'r two sizes too big for u, and it wud be awful to hear a fairy shuflng. Josi Pye wud be delytd. Mind u, Rob Ryt went home with Gerti Pye from th practis nyt befor last. Did u evr hear anything equal to that?" Al th Avonlea scolrs wer in a fever of exitemnt that day, for th hal had to be decrated and a last grand rehersl held. Th concert came off in th evenng and was a pronounced success. Th litl hal was crowdd; al th performrs did exlntly wel, but Ann was th bryt particulr star of th ocasion, as even envy, in th shape of Josi Pye, dared not deny. "O, hasnt it been a briliant evenng?" syd Ann, wen it was al over and she and Diana wer walkng home togethr undr a dark, starry sky. "Everything went off very wel," said Diana practicly. "I gess we must hav made as much as ten dolrs. Mind u, Mr. Allan is going to send an acount of it to th Charlottetown papers." "O, Diana, wil we realy se our names in print? It makes me thril to think of it. Yr solo was perfectly elegnt, Diana. I felt proudr than u did wen it was encored. I just said to myself, `It is my dear bosm frend ho is so onrd.'" "Wel, yr recitations just brot down th house, Ann. That sad one was simply splendid." "O, I was so nervus, Diana. Wen Mr. Allan cald out my name I realy canot tel how I evr got up on that platform. I felt as if a milion ys wer lookng at me and thru me, and for one dredful moment I was sure I cudnt begin at al. Then I thot of my lovly pufd sleves and took curaj. I new that I must liv up to those sleves, Diana. So I startd in, and my voice seemd to be comng from evr so far away. I just felt like a parot. It's providential that I practisd those recitations so ofn up in th garet, or I'd nevr hav been able to get thru. Did I groan al ryt?" "Yes, indeed, u groand lovly," asured Diana. "I saw old Mrs. Sloane wiping away tears wen I sat down. It was splendid to think I had tuchd somebody's hart. It's so romantic to take part in a concert, isnt it? O, it's been a very memrbl ocasion indeed." "Wasnt th boys' dialog fine?" said Diana. "Gilbrt Blythe was just splendid. Ann, I do think it's awful mean th way u treat Gil. Wait til I tel u. Wen u ran off th platform aftr th fairy dialog one of yr roses fel out of yr hair. I saw Gil pik it up and put it in his brest poket. Ther now. U'r so romantic that I'm sure u ot to be plesed at that." "It's nothing to me wat that persn dos," said Ann loftily. "I simply nevr waste a thot on him, Diana." That nyt Marilla and Mathew, ho had been out to a concert for th first time in twenty years, sat for a wile by th kichn fire aftr Ann had gon to bed. "Wel now, I gess our Ann did as wel as any of them," said Mathew proudly. "Yes, she did," admitd Marilla. "She's a bryt child, Mathew. And she lookd real nice too. I'v been kind of oposed to this concert sceme, but I supose ther's no real harm in it aftr al. Anyhow, I was proud of Ann tonyt, altho I'm not going to tel her so." "Wel now, I was proud of her and I did tel her so 'fore she went upstairs," said Mathew. "We must se wat we can do for her som of these days, Marilla. I gess she'l need somthing mor than Avonlea scool by and by." "Ther's time enuf to think of that," said Marilla. "She's only thirteen in March. Tho tonyt it struk me she was groing quite a big girl. Mrs. Lynde made that dress a mite too long, and it makes Ann look so tal. She's quik to lern and I gess th best thing we can do for her wil be to send her to Queen's aftr a spel. But nothing need be said about that for a year or two yet." "Wel now, it'l do no harm to be thinkng it over off and on," said Mathew. "Things like that ar al th betr for lots of thinkng over." CHAPTR XXVI Th Story Club Is Formd Junir Avonlea found it hard to setl down to humdrum existnce again. To Ann in particulr things seemd fearfuly flat, stale, and unprofitbl aftr th goblet of exitemnt she had been sipng for weeks. Cud she go bak to th formr quiet plesurs of those faraway days befor th concert? At first, as she told Diana, she did not realy think she cud. "I'm positivly certn, Diana, that life can nevr be quite th same again as it was in those oldn days," she said mornfuly, as if referng to a period of at least fifty years bak. "Perhaps aftr a wile I'l get used to it, but I'm afraid concerts spoil peple for evryday life. I supose that is wy Marilla disaproves of them. Marilla is such a sensbl womn. It must be a gret deal betr to be sensbl; but stil, I dont beleve I'd realy want to be a sensbl persn, because they ar so unromantic. Mrs. Lynde says ther is no danjer of my evr being one, but u can nevr tel. I feel just now that I may gro up to be sensbl yet. But perhaps that is only because I'm tired. I simply cudnt sleep last nyt for evr so long. I just lay awake and imajnd th concert over and over again. That's one splendid thing about such afairs--it's so lovly to look bak to them." Eventuly, howevr, Avonlea scool slipd bak into its old groov and took up its old intrests. To be sure, th concert left traces. Ruby Gillis and Ema Wite, ho had quarreled over a point of precednce in ther platform seats, no longr sat at th same desk, and a promisng frendship of thre years was broken up. Josi Pye and Julia Bel did not "speak" for thre months, because Josi Pye had told Bessie Ryt that Julia Bell's bo wen she got up to recite made her think of a chikn jerkng its hed, and Bessie told Julia. Non of th Sloanes wud hav any dealngs with th Bels, because th Bels had declared that th Sloanes had too much to do in th program, and th Sloanes had retortd that th Bels wer not capabl of doing th litl they had to do proprly. Finaly, Charli Sloane fot Moody Spurgeon Macpherson, because Moody Spurgeon had said that Ann Shirly put on airs about her recitations, and Moody Spurgeon was "likd"; consequently Moody Spurgeon's sistr, Ella May, wud not "speak" to Ann Shirly al th rest of th wintr. With th exeption of these trifling frictions, work in Miss Stacy's litl kingdm went on with regularity and smoothness. Th wintr weeks slipd by. It was an unusuly mild wintr, with so litl sno that Ann and Diana cud go to scool nearly evry day by way of th Birch Path. On Anne's birthday they wer tripng lytly down it, keepng ys and ears alert amid al ther chatr, for Miss Stacy had told them that they must soon rite a composition on "A Winter's Walk in th Woods," and it behooved them to be observnt. "Just think, Diana, I'm thirteen years old today," remarkd Ann in an awd voice. "I can scarcely realize that I'm in my teens. Wen I woke this mornng it seemd to me that everything must be difrnt. U'v been thirteen for a month, so I supose it dosnt seem such a novlty to u as it dos to me. It makes life seem so much mor intrestng. In two mor years I'l be realy grown up. It's a gret comfrt to think that I'l be able to use big words then without being lafd at." "Ruby Gillis says she means to hav a bau as soon as she's fifteen," said Diana. "Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but beaus," said Ann disdainfuly. "She's actuly delytd wen anyone rites her name up in a take-notice for al she pretends to be so mad. But I'm afraid that is an uncharitbl speech. Mrs. Allan says we shud nevr make uncharitbl speechs; but they do slip out so ofn befor u think, dont they? I simply cant talk about Josi Pye without making an uncharitbl speech, so I nevr mention her at al. U may hav noticed that. I'm tryng to be as much like Mrs. Allan as I posbly can, for I think she's perfect. Mr. Allan thinks so too. Mrs. Lynde says he just worships th ground she treds on and she dosnt realy think it ryt for a ministr to set his afections so much on a mortl being. But then, Diana, even ministrs ar human and hav ther besetng sins just like evrybody else. I had such an intrestng talk with Mrs. Allan about besetng sins last Sunday aftrnoon. Ther ar just a few things it's propr to talk about on Sundays and that is one of them. My besetng sin is imajnng too much and forgetng my dutis. I'm striving very hard to overcom it and now that I'm realy thirteen perhaps I'l get on betr." "In four mor years we'l be able to put our hair up," said Diana. "Alice Bel is only sixteen and she is werng hers up, but I think that's ridiculus. I shal wait until I'm sevnteen." "If I had Alice Bell's crooked nose," said Ann decidedly, "I wudnt--but ther! I wont say wat I was going to because it was extremely uncharitbl. Besides, I was comparing it with my own nose and that's vanity. I'm afraid I think too much about my nose evr since I herd that complmnt about it long ago. It realy is a gret comfrt to me. O, Diana, look, ther's a rabit. That's somthing to remembr for our woods composition. I realy think th woods ar just as lovly in wintr as in sumr. They'r so wite and stil, as if they wer asleep and dreamng pretty dreams." "I wont mind riting that composition wen its time coms," syd Diana. "I can manaj to rite about th woods, but th one we'r to hand in Monday is teribl. Th idea of Miss Stacy telng us to rite a story out of our own heds!" "Wy, it's as esy as wink," said Ann. "It's esy for u because u hav an imajnation," retortd Diana, "but wat wud u do if u had been born without one? I supose u hav yr composition al don?" Ann nodd, tryng hard not to look virtuusly complacent and failng misrbly. "I rote it last Monday evenng. It's cald `Th Jelus Rival; or In Deth Not Divided.' I red it to Marilla and she said it was stuf and nonsnse. Then I red it to Mathew and he said it was fine. That is th kind of critic I like. It's a sad, sweet story. I just cryd like a child wile I was riting it. It's about two butiful maidns cald Cordelia Montmorency and Jeraldine Seymour ho livd in th same vilaj and wer devotedly atachd to each othr. Cordelia was a regal brunet with a coronet of midnyt hair and duskly flashng ys. Jeraldine was a queenly blond with hair like spun gold and velvety purpl ys." "I nevr saw anybody with purpl ys," said Diana dubiusly. "Neithr did I. I just imajnd them. I wantd somthing out of th comn. Jeraldine had an alabastr brow too. I'v found out wat an alabastr brow is. That is one of th advantajs of being thirteen. U no so much mor than u did wen u wer only twelv." "Wel, wat became of Cordelia and Jeraldine?" askd Diana, ho was beginng to feel rathr intrestd in ther fate. "They grew in buty side by side until they wer sixteen. Then Bertrm Devere came to ther nativ vilaj and fel in lov with th fair Jeraldine. He saved her life wen her horse ran away with her in a carrij, and she faintd in his arms and he carrid her home thre miles; because, u undrstand, th carrij was al smashd up. I found it rathr hard to imajn th proposal because I had no experience to go by. I askd Ruby Gillis if she new anything about how men proposed because I thot she'd likely be an authority on th subject, havng so many sistrs marrid. Ruby told me she was hid in th hal pantry wen Malcm Andres proposed to her sistr Susan. She said Malcm told Susan that his dad had givn him th farm in his own name and then said, `Wat do u say, darlng pet, if we get hichd this fal?' And Susan said, `Yes--no--I dont no--let me see'--and ther they wer, engajed as quik as that. But I didnt think that sort of a proposal was a very romantic one, so in th end I had to imajn it out as wel as I cud. I made it very flowry and poeticl and Bertrm went on his nes, altho Ruby Gillis says it isnt don nowadays. Jeraldine acceptd him in a speech a paje long. I can tel u I took a lot of trubl with that speech. I rewrote it five times and I look upon it as my mastrpece. Bertrm gave her a diamnd ring and a ruby neklace and told her they wud go to Europ for a wedng tour, for he was imensly welthy. But then, alas, shados began to darkn over ther path. Cordelia was secretly in lov with Bertrm herself and wen Jeraldine told her about th engajemnt she was simply furius, especialy wen she saw th neklace and th diamnd ring. Al her afection for Jeraldine turnd to bitr hate and she vowd that she shud nevr marry Bertrm. But she pretendd to be Geraldine's frend th same as evr. One evenng they wer standng on th brij over a rushng turbulent stream and Cordelia, thinkng they wer alone, pushd Jeraldine over th brink with a wild, mokng, `Ha, ha, ha.' But Bertrm saw it al and he at once plunjd into th curent, exclaimng, `I wil save thee, my peerless Jeraldine.' But alas, he had forgotn he cudnt swim, and they wer both drownd, claspd in each other's arms. Ther bodis wer washd ashor soon aftrwrds. They wer burid in th one grave and ther funeral was most imposing, Diana. It's so much mor romantic to end a story up with a funeral than a wedng. As for Cordelia, she went insane with remorse and was shut up in a lunatic asylum. I thot that was a poeticl retribution for her crime." "How perfectly lovly!" syd Diana, ho belongd to Matthew's scool of critics. "I dont se how u can make up such thrilng things out of yr own hed, Ann. I wish my imajnation was as good as yrs." "It wud be if u'd only cultivate it," said Ann cheeringly. "I'v just thot of a plan, Diana. Let u and me hav a story club al our own and rite storis for practis. I'l help u along until u can do them by yrself. U ot to cultivate yr imajnation, u no. Miss Stacy says so. Only we must take th ryt way. I told her about th Hauntd Wood, but she said we went th rong way about it in that." This was how th story club came into existnce. It was limitd to Diana and Ann at first, but soon it was extendd to include Jane Andrews and Ruby Gillis and one or two othrs ho felt that ther imajnations needd cultivating. No boys wer alowd in it--altho Ruby Gillis opined that ther admission wud make it mor exiting--and each membr had to produce one story a week. "It's extremely intrestng," Ann told Marilla. "Each girl has to red her story out loud and then we talk it over. We ar going to keep them al sacredly and hav them to red to our desendnts. We each rite undr a nom-de-plume. Mine is Rosamond Montmorency. Al th girls do pretty wel. Ruby Gillis is rathr sentmentl. She puts too much lovmaking into her storis and u no too much is worse than too litl. Jane nevr puts any because she says it makes her feel so silly wen she had to red it out loud. Jane's storis ar extremely sensbl. Then Diana puts too many murdrs into hers. She says most of th time she dosnt no wat to do with th peple so she kils them off to get rid of them. I mostly always hav to tel them wat to rite about, but that isnt hard for I'v milions of ideas." "I think this story-riting busness is th foolishest yet," scofd Marilla. "U'l get a pak of nonsnse into yr heds and waste time that shud be put on yr lesns. Readng storis is bad enuf but riting them is worse." "But we'r so careful to put a moral into them al, Marilla," explaind Ann. "I insist upon that. Al th good peple ar rewardd and al th bad ones ar suitbly punishd. I'm sure that must hav a holesm efect. Th moral is th gret thing. Mr. Allan says so. I red one of my storis to him and Mrs. Allan and they both agreed that th moral was exlnt. Only they lafd in th rong places. I like it betr wen peple cry. Jane and Ruby almost always cry wen I com to th pathetic parts. Diana rote her Ant Josefine about our club and her Ant Josefine rote bak that we wer to send her som of our storis. So we copid out four of our very best and sent them. Miss Josefine Barry rote bak that she had nevr red anything so amusing in her life. That kind of puzld us because th storis wer al very pathetic and almost evrybody died. But I'm glad Miss Barry liked them. It shos our club is doing som good in th world. Mrs. Allan says that ot to be our object in everything. I do realy try to make it my object but I forget so ofn wen I'm havng fun. I hope I shal be a litl like Mrs. Allan wen I gro up. Do u think ther is any prospect of it, Marilla?" "I shudnt say ther was a gret deal" was Marilla's encurajng ansr. "I'm sure Mrs. Allan was nevr such a silly, forgetful litl girl as u ar." "No; but she wasnt always so good as she is now eithr," said Ann seriusly. "She told me so herself--that is, she said she was a dredful mischif wen she was a girl and was always getng into scrapes. I felt so encurajd wen I herd that. Is it very wiked of me, Marilla, to feel encurajd wen I hear that othr peple hav been bad and mischivus? Mrs. Lynde says it is. Mrs. Lynde says she always feels shokd wen she hears of anyone evr havng been nauty, no matr how smal they wer. Mrs. Lynde says she once herd a ministr confess that wen he was a boy he stole a strawbry tart out of his aunt's pantry and she nevr had any respect for that ministr again. Now, I wudnt hav felt that way. I'd hav thot that it was real noble of him to confess it, and I'd hav thot wat an encurajng thing it wud be for smal boys nowadays ho do nauty things and ar sorry for them to no that perhaps they may gro up to be ministrs in spite of it. That's how I'd feel, Marilla." "Th way I feel at presnt, Ann," said Marilla, "is that it's hy time u had those dishs washd. U'v taken half an our longr than u shud with al yr chatrng. Lern to work first and talk aftrwrds." CHAPTR XXVII Vanity and Vexation of Spirit Marilla, walkng home one late April evenng from an Aid meetng, realized that th wintr was over and gon with th thril of delyt that spring nevr fails to bring to th oldst and sadst as wel as to th yungst and merriest. Marilla was not givn to subjectiv analysis of her thots and feelngs. She probbly imajnd that she was thinkng about th Aids and ther missionry box and th new carpet for th vestry room, but undr these reflections was a harmonius conciusness of red fields smoking into pale-purply mists in th declining sun, of long, sharp-pointd fir shados falng over th medo beyond th brook, of stil, crimsn-budded maples around a mirrorlike wood pool, of a wakening in th world and a stir of hidn pulses undr th gray sod. Th spring was abrod in th land and Marilla's sober, midl-ajed step was lytr and swiftr because of its deep, primal gladness. Her ys dwelt afectionatly on Green Gables, peerng thru its network of tres and reflectng th sunlyt bak from its windos in sevrl litl coruscations of glory. Marilla, as she pikd her steps along th damp lane, thot that it was realy a satisfaction to no that she was going home to a briskly snapng wood fire and a table nicely spred for te, insted of to th cold comfrt of old Aid meetng evenngs befor Ann had com to Green Gables. Consequently, wen Marilla entrd her kichn and found th fire blak out, with no syn of Ann anywher, she felt justly disapointd and iritated. She had told Ann to be sure and hav te redy at five oclok, but now she must hurry to take off her secnd-best dress and prepare th meal herself against Matthew's return from plowng. "I'l setl Miss Ann wen she coms home," said Marilla grimly, as she shaved up kindlings with a carvng nife and with mor vim than was strictly necesry. Mathew had com in and was waitng patiently for his te in his cornr. "She's gadding off somwher with Diana, riting storis or practisng dialogs or som such tomfoolery, and nevr thinkng once about th time or her dutis. She's just got to be puld up short and sudn on this sort of thing. I dont care if Mrs. Allan dos say she's th brytst and sweetst child she evr new. She may be bryt and sweet enuf, but her hed is ful of nonsnse and ther's nevr any noing wat shape it'l brek out in next. Just as soon as she gros out of one freak she takes up with anothr. But ther! Here I am sayng th very thing I was so riled with Rachel Lynde for sayng at th Aid today. I was real glad wen Mrs. Allan spoke up for Ann, for if she hadnt I no I'd hav said somthing too sharp to Rachel befor evrybody. Anne's got plenty of falts, goodness nos, and far be it from me to deny it. But I'm bringng her up and not Rachel Lynde, ho'd pik falts in th Anjel Gabriel himself if he livd in Avonlea. Just th same, Ann has no busness to leve th house like this wen I told her she was to stay home this aftrnoon and look aftr things. I must say, with al her falts, I nevr found her disobedient or untrustworthy befor and I'm real sorry to find her so now." "Wel now, I duno," said Mathew, ho, being patient and wise and, abov al, hungry, had deemd it best to let Marilla talk her rath out unhindrd, havng lernd by experience that she got thru with watevr work was on hand much quikr if not delayd by untimely argumnt. "Perhaps u'r jujng her too hasty, Marilla. Dont cal her untrustworthy until u'r sure she has disobeyd u. Mebe it can al be explaind--Anne's a gret hand at explainng." "She's not here wen I told her to stay," retortd Marilla. "I rekn she'l find it hard to explain THAT to my satisfaction. Of corse I new u'd take her part, Mathew. But I'm bringng her up, not u." It was dark wen supr was redy, and stil no syn of Ann, comng hurridly over th log brij or up Lover's Lane, brethless and repentnt with a sense of neglectd dutis. Marilla washd and put away th dishs grimly. Then, wantng a candl to lyt her way down th celr, she went up to th east gable for th one that jenrly stood on Anne's table. Lytng it, she turnd around to se Ann herself lyng on th bed, face downwrd among th pilos. "Mercy on us," said astonishd Marilla, "hav u been asleep, Ann?" "No," was th mufld reply. "Ar u sik then?" demandd Marilla anxiusly, going over to th bed. Ann cowrd deepr into her pilos as if desirus of hiding herself forevr from mortl ys. "No. But plese, Marilla, go away and dont look at me. I'm in th depths of despair and I dont care ho gets hed in class or rites th best composition or sings in th Sunday-scool coir any mor. Litl things like that ar of no importnce now because I dont supose I'l evr be able to go anywher again. My career is closed. Plese, Marilla, go away and dont look at me." "Did anyone evr hear th like?" th mystifyd Marilla wantd to no. "Ann Shirly, watevr is th matr with u? Wat hav u don? Get ryt up this minut and tel me. This minut, I say. Ther now, wat is it?" Ann had slid to th flor in despairng obedience. "Look at my hair, Marilla," she wisprd. Acordngly, Marilla liftd her candl and lookd scrutinizingly at Anne's hair, floing in hevy masses down her bak. It certnly had a very stranje apearnce. "Ann Shirly, wat hav u don to yr hair? Wy, it's GREEN!" Green it myt be cald, if it wer any erthly color--a queer, dul, bronzy green, with streaks here and ther of th orijnl red to hytn th gastly efect. Nevr in al her life had Marilla seen anything so grotesq as Anne's hair at that moment. "Yes, it's green," moand Ann. "I thot nothing cud be as bad as red hair. But now I no it's ten times worse to hav green hair. O, Marilla, u litl no how utrly reched I am." "I litl no how u got into this fix, but I mean to find out," said Marilla. "Com ryt down to th kichn--it's too cold up here--and tel me just wat u'v don. I'v been expectng somthing queer for som time. U havnt got into any scrape for over two months, and I was sure anothr one was du. Now, then, wat did u do to yr hair?" "I dyd it." "Dyd it! Dyd yr hair! Ann Shirly, didnt u no it was a wiked thing to do?" "Yes, I new it was a litl wiked," admitd Ann. "But I thot it was worth wile to be a litl wiked to get rid of red hair. I countd th cost, Marilla. Besides, I ment to be extra good in othr ways to make up for it." "Wel," said Marilla sarcasticly, "if I'd decided it was worth wile to dy my hair I'd hav dyd it a decent color at least. I wudnt hav dyd it green." "But I didnt mean to dy it green, Marilla," protestd Ann dejectdly. "If I was wiked I ment to be wiked to som purpos. He said it wud turn my hair a butiful raven blak--he positivly asured me that it wud. How cud I dout his word, Marilla? I no wat it feels like to hav yr word doutd. And Mrs. Allan says we shud nevr suspect anyone of not telng us th truth unless we hav proof that they'r not. I hav proof now--green hair is proof enuf for anybody. But I hadnt then and I beleved evry word he said IMPLICITLY." "Ho said? Ho ar u talkng about?" "Th peddler that was here this aftrnoon. I bot th dy from him." "Ann Shirly, how ofn hav I told u nevr to let one of those Italians in th house! I dont beleve in encurajng them to com around at al." "O, I didnt let him in th house. I remembrd wat u told me, and I went out, carefuly shut th dor, and lookd at his things on th step. Besides, he wasnt an Italian--he was a Jermn Jew. He had a big box ful of very intrestng things and he told me he was workng hard to make enuf mony to bring his wife and children out from Jermny. He spoke so feelngly about them that it tuchd my hart. I wantd to by somthing from him to help him in such a worthy object. Then al at once I saw th botl of hair dy. Th peddler said it was warantd to dy any hair a butiful raven blak and wudnt wash off. In a trice I saw myself with butiful raven-blak hair and th temtation was iresistbl. But th price of th botl was sevnty-five cents and I had only fifty cents left out of my chikn mony. I think th peddler had a very kind hart, for he said that, seing it was me, he'd sel it for fifty cents and that was just givng it away. So I bot it, and as soon as he had gon I came up here and aplyd it with an old hairbrush as th directions said. I used up th hole botl, and o, Marilla, wen I saw th dredful color it turnd my hair I repentd of being wiked, I can tel u. And I'v been repenting evr since." "Wel, I hope u'l repent to good purpos," said Marilla severely, "and that u'v got yr ys opend to wher yr vanity has led u, Ann. Goodness nos wat's to be don. I supose th first thing is to giv yr hair a good washng and se if that wil do any good." Acordngly, Ann washd her hair, scrubng it vigrusly with soap and watr, but for al th difrnce it made she myt as wel hav been scourng its orijnl red. Th peddler had certnly spoken th truth wen he declared that th dy wudnt wash off, howevr his veracity myt be impeachd in othr respects. "O, Marilla, wat shal I do?" questiond Ann in tears. "I can nevr liv this down. Peple hav pretty wel forgotn my othr mistakes--th liniment cake and setng Diana drunk and flyng into a tempr with Mrs. Lynde. But they'l nevr forget this. They wil think I am not respectbl. O, Marilla, `wat a tangld web we weve wen first we practis to deceve.' That is poetry, but it is tru. And o, how Josi Pye wil laf! Marilla, I CANOT face Josi Pye. I am th unhappiest girl in Prince Edwrd Iland." Anne's unhappiness continud for a week. During that time she went nowher and shampooed her hair evry day. Diana alone of outsiders new th fatal secret, but she promisd solemly nevr to tel, and it may be stated here and now that she kept her word. At th end of th week Marilla said decidedly: "It's no use, Ann. That is fast dy if evr ther was any. Yr hair must be cut off; ther is no othr way. U cant go out with it lookng like that." Anne's lips quivrd, but she realized th bitr truth of Marilla's remarks. With a disml sy she went for th sisrs. "Plese cut it off at once, Marilla, and hav it over. O, I feel that my hart is broken. This is such an unromantic afliction. Th girls in books lose ther hair in fevers or sel it to get mony for som good deed, and I'm sure I wudnt mind losing my hair in som such fashn half so much. But ther is nothing comfrtng in havng yr hair cut off because u'v dyd it a dredful color, is ther? I'm going to weep al th time u'r cutng it off, if it wont intrfere. It seems such a trajic thing." Ann wept then, but later on, wen she went upstairs and lookd in th glass, she was calm with despair. Marilla had don her work thoroly and it had been necesry to shingl th hair as closely as posbl. Th result was not becomng, to state th case as mildly as may be. Ann promtly turnd her glass to th wal. "I'l nevr, nevr look at myself again until my hair gros," she exclaimd passionatly. Then she sudnly rytd th glass. "Yes, I wil, too. I'd do pennce for being wiked that way. I'l look at myself evry time I com to my room and se how ugly I am. And I wont try to imajn it away, eithr. I nevr thot I was vain about my hair, of al things, but now I no I was, in spite of its being red, because it was so long and thik and curly. I expect somthing wil hapn to my nose next." Anne's clipd hed made a sensation in scool on th foloing Monday, but to her relief nobody gesd th real reasn for it, not even Josi Pye, ho, howevr, did not fail to inform Ann that she lookd like a perfect scarecro. "I didnt say anything wen Josi said that to me," Ann confided that evenng to Marilla, ho was lyng on th sofa aftr one of her hedaches, "because I thot it was part of my punishmnt and I ot to ber it patiently. It's hard to be told u look like a scarecro and I wantd to say somthing bak. But I didnt. I just swept her one scornful look and then I forgave her. It makes u feel very virtuus wen u forgiv peple, dosnt it? I mean to devote al my enrjis to being good aftr this and I shal nevr try to be butiful again. Of corse it's betr to be good. I no it is, but it's somtimes so hard to beleve a thing even wen u no it. I do realy want to be good, Marilla, like u and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy, and gro up to be a credit to u. Diana says wen my hair begins to gro to tie a blak velvet ribn around my hed with a bo at one side. She says she thinks it wil be very becomng. I wil cal it a snood--that sounds so romantic. But am I talkng too much, Marilla? Dos it hurt yr hed?" "My hed is betr now. It was teribl bad this aftrnoon, tho. These hedaches of mine ar getng worse and worse. I'l hav to se a doctr about them. As for yr chatr, I dont no that I mind it--I'v got so used to it." Wich was Marilla's way of sayng that she liked to hear it. CHAPTR XXVIII An Unfortunat Lily Maid OF corse u must be Elain, Ann," said Diana. "I cud nevr hav th curaj to float down ther." "Nor I," said Ruby Gillis, with a shivr. "I dont mind floatng down wen ther's two or thre of us in th flat and we can sit up. It's fun then. But to lie down and pretend I was ded--I just cudnt. I'd die realy of fryt." "Of corse it wud be romantic," conceded Jane Andrews, "but I no I cudnt keep stil. I'd be popng up evry minut or so to se wher I was and if I wasnt driftng too far out. And u no, Ann, that wud spoil th efect." "But it's so ridiculus to hav a redhedd Elain," mornd Ann. "I'm not afraid to float down and I'd lov to be Elain. But it's ridiculus just th same. Ruby ot to be Elain because she is so fair and has such lovly long goldn hair-- Elain had `al her bryt hair streamng down,' u no. And Elain was th lily maid. Now, a red-haird persn canot be a lily maid." "Yr complexion is just as fair as Ruby's," said Diana ernestly, "and yr hair is evr so much darkr than it used to be befor u cut it." "O, do u realy think so?" exclaimd Ann, flushng sensitivly with delyt. "I'v somtimes thot it was myself--but I nevr dared to ask anyone for fear she wud tel me it wasnt. Do u think it cud be cald aubrn now, Diana?" "Yes, and I think it is real pretty," said Diana, lookng admiringly at th short, silky curls that clustrd over Anne's hed and wer held in place by a very jaunty blak velvet ribn and bo. They wer standng on th bank of th pond, belo Orchrd Slope, wher a litl hedland frinjd with birchs ran out from th bank; at its tip was a smal woodn platform bilt out into th watr for th convenience of fishrmen and duk huntrs. Ruby and Jane wer spendng th midsumr aftrnoon with Diana, and Ann had com over to play with them. Ann and Diana had spent most of ther playtime that sumr on and about th pond. Idlewild was a thing of th past, Mr. Bel havng ruthlesly cut down th litl circl of tres in his bak pastur in th spring. Ann had sat among th stumps and wept, not without an y to th romance of it; but she was speedily consoled, for, aftr al, as she and Diana said, big girls of thirteen, going on forteen, wer too old for such childish amusemnts as playhouses, and ther wer mor fasnating sports to be found about th pond. It was splendid to fish for trout over th brij and th two girls lernd to ro themselvs about in th litl flat-botmd dory Mr. Barry kept for duk shootng. It was Anne's idea that they dramatize Elain. They had studid Tennyson's poem in scool th preceding wintr, th Superintendnt of Education havng prescribed it in th English corse for th Prince Edwrd Iland scools. They had anlyzd and parsed it and torn it to peces in jenrl until it was a wondr ther was any meanng at al left in it for them, but at least th fair lily maid and Lancelot and Guinevere and King Arthr had becom very real peple to them, and Ann was devourd by secret regret that she had not been born in Camlot. Those days, she said, wer so much mor romantic than th presnt. Anne's plan was haild with enthusiasm. Th girls had discovrd that if th flat wer pushd off from th landng place it wud drift down with th curent undr th brij and finaly strand itself on anothr hedland loer down wich ran out at a curv in th pond. They had ofn gon down like this and nothing cud be mor convenient for playng Elain. "Wel, I'l be Elain," said Ann, yieldng reluctntly, for, altho she wud hav been delytd to play th principl caractr, yet her artistic sense demandd fitness for it and this, she felt, her limitations made imposbl. "Ruby, u must be King Arthr and Jane wil be Guinevere and Diana must be Lancelot. But first u must be th brothrs and th fathr. We cant hav th old dum servitor because ther isnt room for two in th flat wen one is lyng down. We must pal th barj al its length in blakst samite. That old blak shawl of yr mother's wil be just th thing, Diana." Th blak shawl havng been procured, Ann spred it over th flat and then lay down on th botm, with closed ys and hands foldd over her brest. "O, she dos look realy ded," wisprd Ruby Gillis nervusly, wachng th stil, wite litl face undr th flikrng shados of th birchs. "It makes me feel frytnd, girls. Do u supose it's realy ryt to act like this? Mrs. Lynde says that al play-actng is abomnbly wiked." "Ruby, u shudnt talk about Mrs. Lynde," said Ann severely. "It spoils th efect because this is hundreds of years befor Mrs. Lynde was born. Jane, u aranje this. It's silly for Elain to be talkng wen she's ded." Jane rose to th ocasion. Cloth of gold for covrlet ther was non, but an old piano scarf of yelo Japnese crep was an exlnt substitute. A wite lily was not obtainbl just then, but th efect of a tal blu iris placed in one of Anne's foldd hands was al that cud be desired. "Now, she's al redy," said Jane. "We must kiss her quiet brows and, Diana, u say, `Sistr, farewel forevr,' and Ruby, u say, `Farewel, sweet sistr,' both of u as sorofuly as u posbly can. Ann, for goodness sake smile a litl. U no Elain `lay as tho she smiled.' That's betr. Now push th flat off." Th flat was acordngly pushd off, scraping rufly over an old embedd stake in th process. Diana and Jane and Ruby only waitd long enuf to se it caut in th curent and hedd for th brij befor scamprng up thru th woods, across th road, and down to th loer hedland wher, as Lancelot and Guinevere and th King, they wer to be in rediness to receve th lily maid. For a few minuts Ann, driftng sloly down, enjoyd th romance of her situation to th ful. Then somthing hapnd not at al romantic. Th flat began to leak. In a very few moments it was necesry for Elain to scrambl to her feet, pik up her cloth of gold covrlet and pal of blakst samite and gaze blankly at a big crak in th botm of her barj thru wich th watr was litrly porng. That sharp stake at th landng had torn off th strip of batng naild on th flat. Ann did not no this, but it did not take her long to realize that she was in a danjerus plyt. At this rate th flat wud fil and sink long befor it cud drift to th loer hedland. Wher wer th ors? Left behind at th landng! Ann gave one gaspng litl scream wich nobody evr herd; she was wite to th lips, but she did not lose her self-posession. Ther was one chance--just one. "I was horibly frytnd," she told Mrs. Allan th next day, "and it seemd like years wile th flat was driftng down to th brij and th watr rising in it evry moment. I prayd, Mrs. Allan, most ernestly, but I didnt shut my ys to pray, for I new th only way God cud save me was to let th flat float close enuf to one of th brij piles for me to climb up on it. U no th piles ar just old tre trunks and ther ar lots of nots and old branch stubs on them. It was propr to pray, but I had to do my part by wachng out and ryt wel I new it. I just said, `Dear God, plese take th flat close to a pile and I'l do th rest,' over and over again. Undr such circmstnces u dont think much about making a flowry prayr. But mine was ansrd, for th flat bumpd ryt into a pile for a minut and I flung th scarf and th shawl over my sholdr and scrambld up on a big providential stub. And ther I was, Mrs. Allan, clingng to that slipry old pile with no way of getng up or down. It was a very unromantic position, but I didnt think about that at th time. U dont think much about romance wen u hav just escaped from a watry grave. I said a grateful prayr at once and then I gave al my atention to holdng on tyt, for I new I shud probbly hav to depend on human aid to get bak to dry land." Th flat driftd undr th brij and then promtly sank in midstream. Ruby, Jane, and Diana, alredy awaitng it on th loer hedland, saw it disapear befor ther very ys and had not a dout but that Ann had gon down with it. For a moment they stood stil, wite as sheets, frozen with horr at th trajedy; then, shriekng at th tops of ther voices, they startd on a frantic run up thru th woods, nevr pausng as they crosd th main road to glance th way of th brij. Ann, clingng despratly to her precarius foothold, saw ther flyng forms and herd ther shrieks. Help wud soon com, but meanwile her position was a very uncomfrtbl one. Th minuts pasd by, each seemng an our to th unfortunat lily maid. Wy didnt sombody com? Wher had th girls gon? Supose they had faintd, one and al! Supose nobody evr came! Supose she grew so tired and crampd that she cud hold on no longr! Ann lookd at th wiked green depths belo her, waverng with long, oily shados, and shivrd. Her imajnation began to sujest al manr of grusm posbilitis to her. Then, just as she thot she realy cud not endure th ache in her arms and rists anothr moment, Gilbrt Blythe came roing undr th brij in Harmon Andrews's dory! Gilbrt glanced up and, much to his amazemnt, beheld a litl wite scornful face lookng down upon him with big, frytnd but also scornful gray ys. "Ann Shirly! How on erth did u get ther?" he exclaimd. Without waitng for an ansr he puld close to th pile and extendd his hand. Ther was no help for it; Ann, clingng to Gilbrt Blythe's hand, scrambld down into th dory, wher she sat, drabbled and furius, in th stern with her arms ful of dripng shawl and wet crep. It was certnly extremely dificlt to be dignifyd undr th circmstnces! "Wat has hapnd, Ann?" askd Gilbrt, taking up his ors. "We wer playng Elain" explaind Ann frigidly, without even lookng at her rescur, "and I had to drift down to Camlot in th barj--I mean th flat. Th flat began to leak and I climbd out on th pile. Th girls went for help. Wil u be kind enuf to ro me to th landng?" Gilbrt oblijingly roed to th landng and Ann, disdaining asistnce, sprang nimbly on shor. "I'm very much oblijed to u," she said hautily as she turnd away. But Gilbrt had also sprung from th boat and now laid a detainng hand on her arm. "Ann," he said hurridly, "look here. Cant we be good frends? I'm awfuly sorry I made fun of yr hair that time. I didnt mean to vex u and I only ment it for a joke. Besides, it's so long ago. I think yr hair is awfuly pretty now--onest I do. Let's be frends." For a moment Ann hesitated. She had an od, newly awakend conciusness undr al her outrajed dignity that th half-shy, half-eagr expression in Gilbert's hazel ys was somthing that was very good to se. Her hart gave a quik, queer litl beat. But th bitrness of her old grevence promtly stifnd up her waverng determnation. That sene of two years befor flashd bak into her reclection as vividly as if it had taken place yestrday. Gilbrt had cald her "carots" and had brot about her disgrace befor th hole scool. Her resentmnt, wich to othr and oldr peple myt be as lafbl as its cause, was in no wit alayd and sofnd by time seemngly. She hated Gilbrt Blythe! She wud nevr forgiv him! "No," she said coldly, "I shal nevr be frends with u, Gilbrt Blythe; and I dont want to be!" "Al ryt!" Gilbrt sprang into his skiff with an angry color in his cheeks. "I'l nevr ask u to be frends again, Ann Shirly. And I dont care eithr!" He puld away with swift defiant strokes, and Ann went up th steep, ferny litl path undr th maples. She held her hed very hy, but she was concius of an od feelng of regret. She almost wishd she had ansrd Gilbrt difrntly. Of corse, he had insultd her teribly, but stil--! Altogethr, Ann rathr thot it wud be a relief to sit down and hav a good cry. She was realy quite unstrung, for th reaction from her fryt and crampd clingng was making itself felt. Halfway up th path she met Jane and Diana rushng bak to th pond in a state naroly removed from positiv frenzy. They had found nobody at Orchrd Slope, both Mr. and Mrs. Barry being away. Here Ruby Gillis had sucumd to hysterics, and was left to recovr from them as best she myt, wile Jane and Diana flew thru th Hauntd Wood and across th brook to Green Gables. Ther they had found nobody eithr, for Marilla had gon to Carmody and Mathew was making hay in th bak field. "O, Ann," gaspd Diana, fairly falng on th former's nek and weepng with relief and delyt, "o, Ann--we thot--u wer--drownd--and we felt like murdrrs--because we had made--u be--Elain. And Ruby is in hysterics--o, Ann, how did u escape?" "I climbd up on one of th piles," explaind Ann wearily, "and Gilbrt Blythe came along in Mr. Andrews's dory and brot me to land." "O, Ann, how splendid of him! Wy, it's so romantic!" said Jane, findng breth enuf for utrnce at last. "Of corse u'l speak to him aftr this." "Of corse I wont," flashd Ann, with a momentry return of her old spirit. "And I dont want evr to hear th word `romantic' again, Jane Andrews. I'm awfuly sorry u wer so frytnd, girls. It is al my falt. I feel sure I was born undr an unlucky star. Everything I do gets me or my dearst frends into a scrape. We'v gon and lost yr father's flat, Diana, and I hav a presentmnt that we'l not be alowd to ro on th pond any mor." Anne's presentmnt proved mor trustworthy than presentiments ar apt to do. Gret was th constrnation in th Barry and Cuthbert housholds wen th events of th aftrnoon became nown. "Wil u evr hav any sense, Ann?" groand Marilla. "O, yes, I think I wil, Marilla," returnd Ann optmisticly. A good cry, induljd in th grateful solitude of th east gable, had soothed her nervs and restord her to her wonted cheerfulness. "I think my prospects of becomng sensbl ar brytr now than evr" "I dont se how," said Marilla. "Wel," explaind Ann, "I'v lernd a new and valubl lesn today. Evr since I came to Green Gables I'v been making mistakes, and each mistake has helpd to cure me of som gret shortcomng. Th afair of th amethyst brooch cured me of medlng with things that didnt belong to me. Th Hauntd Wood mistake cured me of letng my imajnation run away with me. Th liniment cake mistake cured me of carelesness in cookng. Dyng my hair cured me of vanity. I nevr think about my hair and nose now--at least, very seldm. And today's mistake is going to cure me of being too romantic. I hav com to th conclusion that it is no use tryng to be romantic in Avonlea. It was probbly esy enuf in towrd Camlot hundreds of years ago, but romance is not apreciated now. I feel quite sure that u wil soon se a gret improvemnt in me in this respect, Marilla." "I'm sure I hope so," said Marilla skeptically. But Mathew, ho had been sitng mutely in his cornr, laid a hand on Anne's sholdr wen Marilla had gon out. "Dont giv up al yr romance, Ann," he wisprd shyly, "a litl of it is a good thing--not too much, of corse--but keep a litl of it, Ann, keep a litl of it." CHAPTR XXIX An Epoc in Anne's Life Ann was bringng th cows home from th bak pastur by way of Lover's Lane. It was a Septembr evenng and al th gaps and clearngs in th woods wer brimd up with ruby sunset lyt. Here and ther th lane was splashd with it, but for th most part it was alredy quite shadowy beneath th maples, and th spaces undr th firs wer fild with a clear violet dusk like airy wine. Th winds wer out in ther tops, and ther is no sweetr music on erth than that wich th wind makes in th fir tres at evenng. Th cows swung placidly down th lane, and Ann folod them dreamily, repeatng aloud th batl canto from MARMION--wich had also been part of ther English corse th preceding wintr and wich Miss Stacy had made them lern off by hart--and exultng in its rushng lines and th clash of spears in its imajry. Wen she came to th lines Th stubrn spearsmen stil made good Ther dark impenetrbl wood, she stopd in ecstasy to shut her ys that she myt th betr fancy herself one of that heroic ring. Wen she opend them again it was to behold Diana comng thru th gate that led into th Barry field and lookng so importnt that Ann instntly divined ther was news to be told. But betray too eagr curiosity she wud not. "Isnt this evenng just like a purpl dream, Diana? It makes me so glad to be alive. In th mornngs I always think th mornngs ar best; but wen evenng coms I think it's lovlir stil." "It's a very fine evenng," said Diana, "but o, I hav such news, Ann. Gess. U can hav thre gesses." "Charlot Gillis is going to be marrid in th church aftr al and Mrs. Allan wants us to decrate it," cryd Ann. "No. Charlotte's bau wont agree to that, because nobody evr has been marrid in th church yet, and he thinks it wud seem too much like a funeral. It's too mean, because it wud be such fun. Gess again." "Jane's mothr is going to let her hav a birthday party?" Diana shook her hed, her blak ys dancing with merrimnt. "I cant think wat it can be," said Ann in despair, "unless it's that Moody Spurgeon Macpherson saw u home from prayr meetng last nyt. Did he?" "I shud think not," exclaimd Diana indignntly. "I wudnt be likely to boast of it if he did, th horid creatur! I new u cudnt gess it. Mothr had a letr from Ant Josefine today, and Ant Josefine wants u and me to go to town next Tuesday and stop with her for th Exibition. Ther!" "O, Diana," wisprd Ann, findng it necesry to lean up against a maple tre for suport, "do u realy mean it? But I'm afraid Marilla wont let me go. She wil say that she cant encuraj gadding about. That was wat she said last week wen Jane invited me to go with them in ther dubl-seatd buggy to th Americn concert at th Wite Sands Hotel. I wantd to go, but Marilla said I'd be betr at home lernng my lesns and so wud Jane. I was bitrly disapointd, Diana. I felt so hartbroken that I wudnt say my prayrs wen I went to bed. But I repentd of that and got up in th midl of th nyt and said them." "I'l tel u," said Diana, "we'l get Mothr to ask Marilla. She'l be mor likely to let u go then; and if she dos we'l hav th time of our lives, Ann. I'v nevr been to an Exibition, and it's so agravating to hear th othr girls talkng about ther trips. Jane and Ruby hav been twice, and they'r going this year again." "I'm not going to think about it at al until I no wethr I can go or not," said Ann reslutely. "If I did and then was disapointd, it wud be mor than I cud ber. But in case I do go I'm very glad my new coat wil be redy by that time. Marilla didnt think I needd a new coat. She said my old one wud do very wel for anothr wintr and that I ot to be satisfyd with havng a new dress. Th dress is very pretty, Diana--navy blu and made so fashnbly. Marilla always makes my dresses fashnbly now, because she says she dosnt intend to hav Mathew going to Mrs. Lynde to make them. I'm so glad. It is evr so much esir to be good if yr clothes ar fashnbl. At least, it is esir for me. I supose it dosnt make such a difrnce to natrly good peple. But Mathew said I must hav a new coat, so Marilla bot a lovly pece of blu broadcloth, and it's being made by a real dresmaker over at Carmody. It's to be don Satrday nyt, and I'm tryng not to imajn myself walkng up th church ile on Sunday in my new suit and cap, because I'm afraid it isnt ryt to imajn such things. But it just slips into my mind in spite of me. My cap is so pretty. Mathew bot it for me th day we wer over at Carmody. It is one of those litl blu velvet ones that ar al th raje, with gold cord and tasls. Yr new hat is elegnt, Diana, and so becomng. Wen I saw u com into church last Sunday my hart sweld with pride to think u wer my dearst frend. Do u supose it's rong for us to think so much about our clothes? Marilla says it is very sinful. But it is such an intrestng subject, isnt it?" Marilla agreed to let Ann go to town, and it was aranjed that Mr. Barry shud take th girls in on th foloing Tuesday. As Charlottetown was thirty miles away and Mr. Barry wishd to go and return th same day, it was necesry to make a very erly start. But Ann countd it al joy, and was up befor sunrise on Tuesday mornng. A glance from her windo asured her that th day wud be fine, for th eastrn sky behind th firs of th Hauntd Wood was al silvry and cloudless. Thru th gap in th tres a lyt was shining in th westrn gable of Orchrd Slope, a token that Diana was also up. Ann was dresd by th time Mathew had th fire on and had th brekfast redy wen Marilla came down, but for her own part was much too exited to eat. Aftr brekfast th jaunty new cap and jaket wer dond, and Ann hasend over th brook and up thru th firs to Orchrd Slope. Mr. Barry and Diana wer waitng for her, and they wer soon on th road. It was a long drive, but Ann and Diana enjoyd evry minut of it. It was delytful to ratl along over th moist roads in th erly red sunlyt that was creepng across th shorn harvest fields. Th air was fresh and crisp, and litl smoke-blu mists curld thru th vallis and floatd off from th hils. Somtimes th road went thru woods wher maples wer beginng to hang out scarlet banrs; somtimes it crosd rivrs on brijs that made Anne's flesh crinj with th old, half-delytful fear; somtimes it wound along a harbr shor and pasd by a litl clustr of wethr-gray fishng huts; again it mountd to hils wence a far sweep of curvng upland or misty-blu sky cud be seen; but wherevr it went ther was much of intrest to discuss. It was almost noon wen they reachd town and found ther way to "Beechwood." It was quite a fine old mansion, set bak from th street in a seclusion of green elms and branchng beechs. Miss Barry met them at th dor with a twinkl in her sharp blak ys. "So u'v com to se me at last, u Ann-girl," she said. "Mercy, child, how u hav grown! U'r talr than I am, I declare. And u'r evr so much betr lookng than u used to be, too. But I dare say u no that without being told." "Indeed I didnt," said Ann radiantly. "I no I'm not so frekld as I used to be, so I'v much to be thankful for, but I realy hadnt dared to hope ther was any othr improvemnt. I'm so glad u think ther is, Miss Barry." Miss Barry's house was furnishd with "gret magnificence," as Ann told Marilla aftrwrd. Th two litl cuntry girls wer rathr abashd by th splendr of th parlr wher Miss Barry left them wen she went to se about dinr. "Isnt it just like a palace?" wisprd Diana. "I nevr was in Ant Josephine's house befor, and I'd no idea it was so grand. I just wish Julia Bel cud se this--she puts on such airs about her mother's parlr." "Velvet carpet," syd Ann luxuriusly, "and silk curtns! I'v dreamd of such things, Diana. But do u no I dont beleve I feel very comfrtbl with them aftr al. Ther ar so many things in this room and al so splendid that ther is no scope for imajnation. That is one conslation wen u ar poor--ther ar so many mor things u can imajn about." Ther sojrn in town was somthing that Ann and Diana dated from for years. From first to last it was crowdd with delyts. On Wensday Miss Barry took them to th Exibition grounds and kept them ther al day. "It was splendid," Ann related to Marilla later on. "I nevr imajnd anything so intrestng. I dont realy no wich departmnt was th most intrestng. I think I liked th horses and th flowrs and th fancywork best. Josi Pye took first prize for nitd lace. I was real glad she did. And I was glad that I felt glad, for it shos I'm improving, dont u think, Marilla, wen I can rejoice in Josie's success? Mr. Harmon Andrews took secnd prize for Gravenstein apls and Mr. Bel took first prize for a pig. Diana said she thot it was ridiculus for a Sunday-scool superintendnt to take a prize in pigs, but I dont se wy. Do u? She said she wud always think of it aftr this wen he was prayng so solemly. Clara Luise Macpherson took a prize for paintng, and Mrs. Lynde got first prize for homemade butr and chese. So Avonlea was pretty wel representd, wasnt it? Mrs. Lynde was ther that day, and I nevr new how much I realy liked her until I saw her familir face among al those stranjers. Ther wer thousnds of peple ther, Marilla. It made me feel dredfuly insignificnt. And Miss Barry took us up to th granstand to se th horse races. Mrs. Lynde wudnt go; she said horse racing was an abomnation and, she being a church membr, thot it her bounden duty to set a good exampl by stayng away. But ther wer so many ther I dont beleve Mrs. Lynde's absnce wud evr be noticed. I dont think, tho, that I ot to go very ofn to horse races, because they AR awfuly fasnating. Diana got so exited that she ofrd to bet me ten cents that th red horse wud win. I didnt beleve he wud, but I refused to bet, because I wantd to tel Mrs. Allan al about everything, and I felt sure it wudnt do to tel her that. It's always rong to do anything u cant tel th minister's wife. It's as good as an extra concience to hav a minister's wife for yr frend. And I was very glad I didnt bet, because th red horse DID win, and I wud hav lost ten cents. So u se that virtu was its own reward. We saw a man go up in a baloon. I'd lov to go up in a baloon, Marilla; it wud be simply thrilng; and we saw a man selng fortunes. U paid him ten cents and a litl bird pikd out yr fortune for u. Miss Barry gave Diana and me ten cents each to hav our fortunes told. Mine was that I wud marry a dark-complected man ho was very welthy, and I wud go across watr to liv. I lookd carefuly at al th dark men I saw aftr that, but I didnt care much for any of them, and anyhow I supose it's too erly to be lookng out for him yet. O, it was a nevr-to-be-forgotn day, Marilla. I was so tired I cudnt sleep at nyt. Miss Barry put us in th spare room, acordng to promis. It was an elegnt room, Marilla, but somhow sleepng in a spare room isnt wat I used to think it was. That's th worst of groing up, and I'm beginng to realize it. Th things u wantd so much wen u wer a child dont seem half so wondrful to u wen u get them." Thursday th girls had a drive in th park, and in th evenng Miss Barry took them to a concert in th Acadmy of Music, wher a noted prima donna was to sing. To Ann th evenng was a glitrng vision of delyt. "O, Marilla, it was beyond description. I was so exited I cudnt even talk, so u may no wat it was like. I just sat in enrapturd silence. Madame Selitsky was perfectly butiful, and wor wite satn and diamnds. But wen she began to sing I nevr thot about anything else. O, I cant tel u how I felt. But it seemd to me that it cud nevr be hard to be good any mor. I felt like I do wen I look up to th stars. Tears came into my ys, but, o, they wer such happy tears. I was so sorry wen it was al over, and I told Miss Barry I didnt se how I was evr to return to comn life again. She said she thot if we went over to th restran across th street and had an ice cream it myt help me. That soundd so prosaic; but to my surprise I found it tru. Th ice cream was delicius, Marilla, and it was so lovly and disipated to be sitng ther eatng it at elevn oclok at nyt. Diana said she beleved she was born for city life. Miss Barry askd me wat my opinion was, but I said I wud hav to think it over very seriusly befor I cud tel her wat I realy thot. So I thot it over aftr I went to bed. That is th to think things out. And I came to th conclusion, Marilla, that I wasnt born for city life and that I was glad of it. It's nice to be eatng ice cream at briliant restrans at elevn oclok at nyt once in a wile; but as a regulr thing I'd rathr be in th east gable at elevn, sound asleep, but kind of noing even in my sleep that th stars wer shining outside and that th wind was bloing in th firs across th brook. I told Miss Barry so at brekfast th next mornng and she lafd. Miss Barry jenrly lafd at anything I said, even wen I said th most solem things. I dont think I liked it, Marilla, because I wasnt tryng to be funny. But she is a most hospitbl lady and treatd us royly." Friday brot going-home time, and Mr. Barry drove in for th girls. "Wel, I hope u'v enjoyd yrselvs," said Miss Barry, as she bad them good-by. "Indeed we hav," said Diana. "And u, Ann-girl?" "I'v enjoyd evry minut of th time," said Ann, throing her arms impulsivly about th old woman's nek and kisng her rinkld cheek. Diana wud nevr hav dared to do such a thing and felt rathr agast at Anne's fredm. But Miss Barry was plesed, and she stood on her veranda and wachd th buggy out of syt. Then she went bak into her big house with a sy. It seemd very lonely, lakng those fresh yung lives. Miss Barry was a rathr selfish old lady, if th truth must be told, and had nevr cared much for anybody but herself. She valud peple only as they wer of service to her or amused her. Ann had amused her, and consequently stood hy in th old lady's good graces. But Miss Barry found herself thinkng less about Anne's quaint speechs than of her fresh enthusiasms, her transparent emotions, her litl winng ways, and th sweetness of her ys and lips. "I thot Marilla Cuthbert was an old fool wen I herd she'd adoptd a girl out of an orfn asylum," she said to herself, "but I gess she didnt make much of a mistake aftr al. If I'd a child like Ann in th house al th time I'd be a betr and happir womn." Ann and Diana found th drive home as plesnt as th drive in--plesntr, indeed, since ther was th delytful conciusness of home waitng at th end of it. It was sunset wen they pasd thru Wite Sands and turnd into th shor road. Beyond, th Avonlea hils came out darkly against th safron sky. Behind them th moon was rising out of th se that grew al radiant and transfigrd in her lyt. Evry litl cove along th curvng road was a marvl of dancing ripls. Th waves broke with a soft swish on th roks belo them, and th tang of th se was in th strong, fresh air. "O, but it's good to be alive and to be going home," brethed Ann. Wen she crosd th log brij over th brook th kichn lyt of Green Gables winkd her a frendly welcm bak, and thru th open dor shon th harth fire, sendng out its warm red glo athwart th chilly autm nyt. Ann ran blithely up th hil and into th kichn, wher a hot supr was waitng on th table. "So u'v got bak?" said Marilla, foldng up her nitng. "Yes, and o, it's so good to be bak," said Ann joyusly. "I cud kiss everything, even to th clok. Marilla, a broild chikn! U dont mean to say u cookd that for me!" "Yes, I did," said Marilla. "I thot u'd be hungry aftr such a drive and need somthing real apetizing. Hurry and take off yr things, and we'l hav supr as soon as Mathew coms in. I'm glad u'v got bak, I must say. It's been fearful lonesm here without u, and I nevr put in four longr days." Aftr supr Ann sat befor th fire between Mathew and Marilla, and gave them a ful acount of her visit. "I'v had a splendid time," she concluded happily, "and I feel that it marks an epoc in my life. But th best of it al was th comng home." CHAPTR XXX Th Queens Class Is Organized Marilla laid her nitng on her lap and leand bak in her chair. Her ys wer tired, and she thot vagely that she must se about havng her glasses chanjed th next time she went to town, for her ys had grown tired very ofn of late. It was nearly dark, for th ful Novembr twilyt had falen around Green Gables, and th only lyt in th kichn came from th dancing red flames in th stove. Ann was curld up Turk-fashn on th hearthrug, gazing into that joyus glo wher th sunshine of a hundred sumrs was being distild from th maple cordwood. She had been readng, but her book had slipd to th flor, and now she was dreamng, with a smile on her partd lips. Glitrng casls in Spain wer shaping themselvs out of th mists and rainbos of her lively fancy; adventurs wondrful and enthralng wer hapnng to her in cloudland--adventurs that always turnd out triumfntly and nevr involvd her in scrapes like those of actul life. Marilla lookd at her with a tendrness that wud nevr hav been sufrd to reveal itself in any clearr lyt than that soft minglng of fireshine and shado. Th lesn of a lov that shud display itself esily in spoken word and open look was one Marilla cud nevr lern. But she had lernd to lov this slim, gray-yd girl with an afection al th deepr and strongr from its very undemonstrativeness. Her lov made her afraid of being unduly induljnt, indeed. She had an unesy feelng that it was rathr sinful to set one's hart so intensly on any human creatur as she had set hers on Ann, and perhaps she performd a sort of unconcius pennce for this by being strictr and mor criticl than if th girl had been less dear to her. Certnly Ann herself had no idea how Marilla lovd her. She somtimes thot wistfuly that Marilla was very hard to plese and distinctly lakng in sympathy and undrstandng. But she always chekd th thot reproachfuly, remembrng wat she oed to Marilla. "Ann," said Marilla abruptly, "Miss Stacy was here this aftrnoon wen u wer out with Diana." Ann came bak from her othr world with a start and a sy. "Was she? O, I'm so sorry I wasnt in. Wy didnt u cal me, Marilla? Diana and I wer only over in th Hauntd Wood. It's lovly in th woods now. Al th litl wood things--th ferns and th satn leavs and th crackerberries--hav gon to sleep, just as if sombody had tukd them away until spring undr a blanket of leavs. I think it was a litl gray fairy with a rainbo scarf that came tiptoeing along th last moonlyt nyt and did it. Diana wudnt say much about that, tho. Diana has nevr forgotn th scoldng her mothr gave her about imajnng gosts into th Hauntd Wood. It had a very bad efect on Diana's imajnation. It blytd it. Mrs. Lynde says Myrtl Bel is a blytd being. I askd Ruby Gillis wy Myrtl was blytd, and Ruby said she gesd it was because her yung man had gon bak on her. Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but yung men, and th oldr she gets th worse she is. Yung men ar al very wel in ther place, but it dosnt do to drag them into everything, dos it? Diana and I ar thinkng seriusly of promisng each othr that we wil nevr marry but be nice old maids and liv togethr forevr. Diana hasnt quite made up her mind tho, because she thinks perhaps it wud be nobler to marry som wild, dashng, wiked yung man and reform him. Diana and I talk a gret deal about serius subjects now, u no. We feel that we ar so much oldr than we used to be that it isnt becomng to talk of childish matrs. It's such a solem thing to be almost forteen, Marilla. Miss Stacy took al us girls ho ar in our teens down to th brook last Wensday, and talkd to us about it. She said we cudnt be too careful wat habits we formd and wat ideals we aquired in our teens, because by th time we wer twenty our caractrs wud be developd and th foundation laid for our hole futur life. And she said if th foundation was shaky we cud nevr bild anything realy worth wile on it. Diana and I talkd th matr over comng home from scool. We felt extremely solem, Marilla. And we decided that we wud try to be very careful indeed and form respectbl habits and lern al we cud and be as sensbl as posbl, so that by th time we wer twenty our caractrs wud be proprly developd. It's perfectly apalng to think of being twenty, Marilla. It sounds so fearfuly old and grown up. But wy was Miss Stacy here this aftrnoon?" "That is wat I want to tel u, Ann, if u'l evr giv me a chance to get a word in edgewise. She was talkng about u." "About me?" Ann lookd rathr scared. Then she flushd and exclaimd: "O, I no wat she was sayng. I ment to tel u, Marilla, onestly I did, but I forgot. Miss Stacy caut me readng Ben Hur in scool yestrday aftrnoon wen I shud hav been studying my Canadian histry. Jane Andrews lent it to me. I was readng it at dinr our, and I had just got to th chariot race wen scool went in. I was simply wild to no how it turnd out-- altho I felt sure Ben Hur must win, because it wudnt be poeticl justice if he didnt--so I spred th histry open on my desk lid and then tukd Ben Hur between th desk and my ne. I just lookd as if I wer studying Canadian histry, u no, wile al th wile I was reveling in Ben Hur. I was so intrestd in it that I nevr noticed Miss Stacy comng down th ile until al at once I just lookd up and ther she was lookng down at me, so reproachful-like. I cant tel u how ashamed I felt, Marilla, especialy wen I herd Josi Pye giglng. Miss Stacy took Ben Hur away, but she nevr said a word then. She kept me in at recess and talkd to me. She said I had don very rong in two respects. First, I was wasting th time I ot to hav put on my studis; and secndly, I was deceving my teachr in tryng to make it apear I was readng a histry wen it was a storybook insted. I had nevr realized until that moment, Marilla, that wat I was doing was deceitful. I was shokd. I cryd bitrly, and askd Miss Stacy to forgiv me and I'd nevr do such a thing again; and I ofrd to do pennce by nevr so much as lookng at Ben Hur for a hole week, not even to se how th chariot race turnd out. But Miss Stacy said she wudnt require that, and she forgave me frely. So I think it wasnt very kind of her to com up here to u about it aftr al." "Miss Stacy nevr mentiond such a thing to me, Ann, and its only yr gilty concience that's th matr with u. U hav no busness to be taking storybooks to scool. U red too many novls anyhow. Wen I was a girl I wasnt so much as alowd to look at a novl." "O, how can u cal Ben Hur a novl wen it's realy such a relijus book?" protestd Ann. "Of corse it's a litl too exiting to be propr readng for Sunday, and I only red it on weekdays. And I nevr red ANY book now unless eithr Miss Stacy or Mrs. Allan thinks it is a propr book for a girl thirteen and thre-quartrs to red. Miss Stacy made me promis that. She found me readng a book one day cald, Th Lurid Mystry of th Hauntd Hal. It was one Ruby Gillis had lent me, and, o, Marilla, it was so fasnating and creepy. It just curdld th blod in my veins. But Miss Stacy said it was a very silly, unholesm book, and she askd me not to red any mor of it or any like it. I didnt mind promisng not to red any mor like it, but it was AGNIZING to giv bak that book without noing how it turnd out. But my lov for Miss Stacy stood th test and I did. It's realy wondrful, Marilla, wat u can do wen u'r truly anxius to plese a certn persn." "Wel, I gess I'l lyt th lamp and get to work," said Marilla. "I se plainly that u dont want to hear wat Miss Stacy had to say. U'r mor intrestd in th sound of yr own tong than in anything else." "O, indeed, Marilla, I do want to hear it," cryd Ann contritely. "I wont say anothr word--not one. I no I talk too much, but I am realy tryng to overcom it, and altho I say far too much, yet if u only new how many things I want to say and dont, u'd giv me som credit for it. Plese tel me, Marilla." "Wel, Miss Stacy wants to orgnize a class among her advanced students ho mean to study for th entrnce examnation into Queen's. She intends to giv them extra lesns for an our aftr scool. And she came to ask Mathew and me if we wud like to hav u join it. Wat do u think about it yrself, Ann? Wud u like to go to Queen's and pass for a teachr?" "O, Marilla!" Ann straitnd to her nes and claspd her hands. "It's been th dream of my life--that is, for th last six months, evr since Ruby and Jane began to talk of studying for th Entrnce. But I didnt say anything about it, because I suposed it wud be perfectly useless. I'd lov to be a teachr. But wont it be dredfuly expensiv? Mr. Andrews says it cost him one hundred and fifty dolrs to put Prissy thru, and Prissy wasnt a dunce in jeometry." "I gess u neednt worry about that part of it. Wen Mathew and I took u to bring up we resolvd we wud do th best we cud for u and giv u a good education. I beleve in a girl being fitd to ern her own livng wethr she evr has to or not. U'l always hav a home at Green Gables as long as Mathew and I ar here, but nobody nos wat is going to hapn in this uncertn world, and it's just as wel to be prepared. So u can join th Queen's class if u like, Ann." "O, Marilla, thank u." Ann flung her arms about Marilla's waist and lookd up ernestly into her face. "I'm extremely grateful to u and Mathew. And I'l study as hard as I can and do my very best to be a credit to u. I warn u not to expect much in jeometry, but I think I can hold my own in anything else if I work hard." "I dare say u'l get along wel enuf. Miss Stacy says u ar bryt and dilijnt." Not for worlds wud Marilla hav told Ann just wat Miss Stacy had said about her; that wud hav been to pampr vanity. "U neednt rush to any extreme of kilng yrself over yr books. Ther is no hurry. U wont be redy to try th Entrnce for a year and a half yet. But it's wel to begin in time and be thoroly groundd, Miss Stacy says." "I shal take mor intrest than evr in my studis now," said Ann blisfuly, "because I hav a purpos in life. Mr. Allan says evrybody shud hav a purpos in life and pursu it faithfuly. Only he says we must first make sure that it is a worthy purpos. I wud cal it a worthy purpos to want to be a teachr like Miss Stacy, wudnt u, Marilla? I think it's a very noble profession." Th Queen's class was organized in du time. Gilbrt Blythe, Ann Shirly, Ruby Gillis, Jane Andrews, Josi Pye, Charli Sloane, and Moody Spurgeon Macpherson joind it. Diana Barry did not, as her parents did not intend to send her to Queen's. This seemd nothing short of a calamity to Ann. Nevr, since th nyt on wich Minni May had had th croup, had she and Diana been seprated in anything. On th evenng wen th Queen's class first remaind in scool for th extra lesns and Ann saw Diana go sloly out with th othrs, to walk home alone thru th Birch Path and Violet Vale, it was al th formr cud do to keep her seat and refrain from rushng impulsivly aftr her chum. A lump came into her throat, and she hastily retired behind th pajes of her upliftd Latn gramr to hide th tears in her ys. Not for worlds wud Ann hav had Gilbrt Blythe or Josi Pye se those tears. "But, o, Marilla, I realy felt that I had tasted th bitrness of deth, as Mr. Allan said in his sermn last Sunday, wen I saw Diana go out alone," she said mornfuly that nyt. "I thot how splendid it wud hav been if Diana had only been going to study for th Entrnce, too. But we cant hav things perfect in this imperfect world, as Mrs. Lynde says. Mrs. Lynde isnt exactly a comfrtng persn somtimes, but ther's no dout she says a gret many very tru things. And I think th Queen's class is going to be extremely intrestng. Jane and Ruby ar just going to study to be teachrs. That is th hyt of ther ambition. Ruby says she wil only teach for two years aftr she gets thru, and then she intends to be marrid. Jane says she wil devote her hole life to teachng, and nevr, nevr marry, because u ar paid a salry for teachng, but a husbnd wont pay u anything, and growls if u ask for a share in th eg and butr mony. I expect Jane speaks from mornful experience, for Mrs. Lynde says that her fathr is a perfect old crank, and meanr than secnd skimmings. Josi Pye says she is just going to colej for education's sake, because she wont hav to ern her own livng; she says of corse it is difrnt with orfns ho ar livng on charity--THEY hav to husl. Moody Spurgeon is going to be a ministr. Mrs. Lynde says he cudnt be anything else with a name like that to liv up to. I hope it isnt wiked of me, Marilla, but realy th thot of Moody Spurgeon being a ministr makes me laf. He's such a funny-lookng boy with that big fat face, and his litl blu ys, and his ears stikng out like flaps. But perhaps he wil be mor intlectul lookng wen he gros up. Charli Sloane says he's going to go into politics and be a membr of Parlamnt, but Mrs. Lynde says he'l nevr succeed at that, because th Sloanes ar al onest peple, and it's only rascls that get on in politics nowadays." "Wat is Gilbrt Blythe going to be?" querid Marilla, seing that Ann was openng her Cesar. "I dont hapn to no wat Gilbrt Blythe's ambition in life is-- if he has any," said Ann scornfuly. Ther was open rivalry between Gilbrt and Ann now. Previusly th rivalry had been rathr onesided, but ther was no longr any dout that Gilbrt was as determnd to be first in class as Ann was. He was a foeman worthy of her steel. Th othr membrs of th class tacitly aknolejd ther superiority, and nevr dreamd of tryng to compete with them. Since th day by th pond wen she had refused to lisn to his ple for forgivness, Gilbrt, save for th aforsaid determnd rivalry, had evinced no recognition watevr of th existnce of Ann Shirly. He talkd and jested with th othr girls, exchanjed books and puzls with them, discusd lesns and plans, somtimes walkd home with one or th othr of them from prayr meetng or Debating Club. But Ann Shirly he simply ignord, and Ann found out that it is not plesnt to be ignord. It was in vain that she told herself with a toss of her hed that she did not care. Deep down in her waywrd, femnn litl hart she new that she did care, and that if she had that chance of th Lake of Shining Watrs again she wud ansr very difrntly. Al at once, as it seemd, and to her secret dismay, she found that th old resentmnt she had cherishd against him was gon--gon just wen she most needd its sustainng powr. It was in vain that she recald evry incidnt and emotion of that memrbl ocasion and tryd to feel th old satisfyng angr. That day by th pond had witnesd its last spasmodic flikr. Ann realized that she had forgivn and forgotn without noing it. But it was too late. And at least neithr Gilbrt nor anybody else, not even Diana, shud evr suspect how sorry she was and how much she wishd she hadnt been so proud and horid! She determnd to "shroud her feelngs in deepst oblivion," and it may be stated here and now that she did it, so succesfuly that Gilbrt, ho posbly was not quite so indifrnt as he seemd, cud not console himself with any belief that Ann felt his retaliatry scorn. Th only poor comfrt he had was that she snubd Charli Sloane, unmercifuly, continuly, and undeservedly. Othrwise th wintr pasd away in a round of plesnt dutis and studis. For Ann th days slipd by like goldn beads on th neklace of th year. She was happy, eagr, intrestd; ther wer lesns to be lernd and onr to be won; delytful books to red; new peces to be practisd for th Sunday-scool coir; plesnt Satrday aftrnoons at th manse with Mrs. Allan; and then, almost befor Ann realized it, spring had com again to Green Gables and al th world was abloom once mor. Studis pald just a we bit then; th Queen's class, left behind in scool wile th othrs scatrd to green lanes and leafy wood cuts and medo byways, lookd wistfuly out of th windos and discovrd that Latn verbs and French exrcises had somhow lost th tang and zest they had posesd in th crisp wintr months. Even Ann and Gilbrt lagd and grew indifrnt. Teachr and taut wer alike glad wen th term was endd and th glad vacation days strechd rosily befor them. "But u'v don good work this past year," Miss Stacy told them on th last evenng, "and u deserv a good, jolly vacation. Hav th best time u can in th out-of-dor world and lay in a good stok of helth and vitality and ambition to carry u thru next year. It wil be th tug of war, u no--th last year befor th Entrnce." "Ar u going to be bak next year, Miss Stacy?" askd Josi Pye. Josi Pye nevr scrupled to ask questions; in this instnce th rest of th class felt grateful to her; non of them wud hav dared to ask it of Miss Stacy, but al wantd to, for ther had been alarmng rumors runng at larj thru th scool for som time that Miss Stacy was not comng bak th next year--that she had been ofrd a position in th grade scool of her own home district and ment to accept. Th Queen's class lisnd in brethless suspense for her ansr. "Yes, I think I wil," said Miss Stacy. "I thot of taking anothr scool, but I hav decided to com bak to Avonlea. To tel th truth, I'v grown so intrestd in my pupils here that I found I cudnt leve them. So I'l stay and se u thru." "Hura!" said Moody Spurgeon. Moody Spurgeon had nevr been so carrid away by his feelngs befor, and he blushd uncomfrtbly evry time he thot about it for a week. "O, I'm so glad," said Ann, with shining ys. "Dear Stacy, it wud be perfectly dredful if u didnt com bak. I dont beleve I cud hav th hart to go on with my studis at al if anothr teachr came here." Wen Ann got home that nyt she stakd al her textbooks away in an old trunk in th atic, lokd it, and threw th ke into th blanket box. "I'm not even going to look at a schoolbook in vacation," she told Marilla. "I'v studid as hard al th term as I posbly cud and I'v pord over that jeometry until I no evry proposition in th first book off by hart, even wen th letrs AR chanjed. I just feel tired of everything sensbl and I'm going to let my imajnation run riot for th sumr. O, u neednt be alarmd, Marilla. I'l only let it run riot within reasnbl limits. But I want to hav a real good jolly time this sumr, for maybe it's th last sumr I'l be a litl girl. Mrs. Lynde says that if I keep strechng out next year as I'v don this I'l hav to put on longr skirts. She says I'm al runng to legs and ys. And wen I put on longr skirts I shal feel that I hav to liv up to them and be very dignifyd. It wont even do to beleve in fairis then, I'm afraid; so I'm going to beleve in them with al my hole hart this sumr. I think we'r going to hav a very gay vacation. Ruby Gillis is going to hav a birthday party soon and ther's th Sunday scool picnic and th missionry concert next month. And Mrs. Barry says that som evenng he'l take Diana and me over to th Wite Sands Hotel and hav dinr ther. They hav dinr ther in th evenng, u no. Jane Andrews was over once last sumr and she says it was a dazlng syt to se th electric lyts and th flowrs and al th lady gests in such butiful dresses. Jane says it was her first glimps into hy life and she'l nevr forget it to her dyng day." Mrs. Lynde came up th next aftrnoon to find out wy Marilla had not been at th Aid meetng on Thursday. Wen Marilla was not at Aid meetng peple new ther was somthing rong at Green Gables. "Mathew had a bad spel with his hart Thursday," Marilla explaind, "and I didnt feel like leving him. O, yes, he's al ryt again now, but he takes them spels oftener than he used to and I'm anxius about him. Th doctr says he must be careful to avoid exitemnt. That's esy enuf, for Mathew dosnt go about lookng for exitemnt by any means and nevr did, but he's not to do any very hevy work eithr and u myt as wel tel Mathew not to brethe as not to work. Com and lay off yr things, Rachel. U'l stay to te?" "Wel, seing u'r so presng, perhaps I myt as wel, stay" said Mrs. Rachel, ho had not th slytst intention of doing anything else. Mrs. Rachel and Marilla sat comfrtbly in th parlr wile Ann got th te and made hot biscuits that wer lyt and wite enuf to defy even Mrs. Rachel's criticism. "I must say Ann has turnd out a real smart girl," admitd Mrs. Rachel, as Marilla acompnid her to th end of th lane at sunset. "She must be a gret help to u." "She is," said Marilla, "and she's real stedy and relyabl now. I used to be afraid she'd nevr get over her featherbrained ways, but she has and I wudnt be afraid to trust her in anything now." "I nevr wud hav thot she'd hav turnd out so wel that first day I was here thre years ago," said Mrs. Rachel. "Lawful hart, shal I evr forget that tantrm of hers! Wen I went home that nyt I says to Tomas, says I, `Mark my words, Tomas, Marilla Cuthbert'll liv to rue th step she's took.' But I was mistaken and I'm real glad of it. I aint one of those kind of peple, Marilla, as can nevr be brot to own up that they'v made a mistake. No, that nevr was my way, thank goodness. I did make a mistake in jujng Ann, but it wernt no wondr, for an odr, unexpecteder wich of a child ther nevr was in this world, that's wat. Ther was no ciphering her out by th rules that workd with othr children. It's nothing short of wondrful how she's improved these thre years, but especialy in looks. She's a real pretty girl got to be, tho I cant say I'm overly partial to that pale, big-yd styl myself. I like mor snap and color, like Diana Barry has or Ruby Gillis. Ruby Gillis's looks ar real showy. But somhow--I dont no how it is but wen Ann and them ar togethr, tho she aint half as hansm, she makes them look kind of comn and overdon-- somthing like them wite June lilis she cals narcissus alongside of th big, red peonies, that's wat." CHAPTR XXXI Wher th Brook and Rivr Meet Ann had her "good" sumr and enjoyd it holehartdly. She and Diana fairly livd outdors, reveling in al th delyts that Lover's Lane and th Dryad's Bubl and Willowmere and Victoria Iland afordd. Marilla ofrd no objections to Anne's gypsyings. Th Spencervale doctr ho had com th nyt Minni May had th croup met Ann at th house of a patient one aftrnoon erly in vacation, lookd her over sharply, screwd up his mouth, shook his hed, and sent a messaj to Marilla Cuthbert by anothr persn. It was: "Keep that redhedd girl of yrs in th open air al sumr and dont let her red books until she gets mor spring into her step." This messaj frytnd Marilla wholesomely. She red Anne's deth warant by consumtion in it unless it was scrupulusly obeyd. As a result, Ann had th goldn sumr of her life as far as fredm and frolic went. She walkd, roed, berried, and dreamd to her heart's content; and wen Septembr came she was bryt-yd and alert, with a step that wud hav satisfyd th Spencervale doctr and a hart ful of ambition and zest once mor. "I feel just like studying with myt and main," she declared as she brot her books down from th atic. "O, u good old frends, I'm glad to se yr onest faces once mor--yes, even u, jeometry. I'v had a perfectly butiful sumr, Marilla, and now I'm rejoicing as a strong man to run a race, as Mr. Allan said last Sunday. Dosnt Mr. Allan preach magnificent sermns? Mrs. Lynde says he is improving evry day and th first thing we no som city church wil gobl him up and then we'l be left and hav to turn to and brek in anothr green preachr. But I dont se th use of meetng trubl halfway, do u, Marilla? I think it wud be betr just to enjoy Mr. Allan wile we hav him. If I wer a man I think I'd be a ministr. They can hav such an influence for good, if ther theolojy is sound; and it must be thrilng to preach splendid sermns and stir yr hearers' harts. Wy cant women be ministrs, Marilla? I askd Mrs. Lynde that and she was shokd and said it wud be a scandlus thing. She said ther myt be female ministrs in th States and she beleved ther was, but thank goodness we hadnt got to that staje in Canada yet and she hoped we nevr wud. But I dont se wy. I think women wud make splendid ministrs. Wen ther is a social to be got up or a church te or anything else to rase mony th women hav to turn to and do th work. I'm sure Mrs. Lynde can pray evry bit as wel as Superintendnt Bel and I'v no dout she cud preach too with a litl practis." "Yes, I beleve she cud," said Marilla dryly. "She dos plenty of unoficial preachng as it is. Nobody has much of a chance to go rong in Avonlea with Rachel to overse them." "Marilla," said Ann in a burst of confidnce, "I want to tel u somthing and ask u wat u think about it. It has worrid me teribly--on Sunday aftrnoons, that is, wen I think specialy about such matrs. I do realy want to be good; and wen I'm with u or Mrs. Allan or Miss Stacy I want it mor than evr and I want to do just wat wud plese u and wat u wud aprove of. But mostly wen I'm with Mrs. Lynde I feel despratly wiked and as if I wantd to go and do th very thing she tels me I otnt to do. I feel iresistbly temtd to do it. Now, wat do u think is th reasn I feel like that? Do u think it's because I'm realy bad and unregenerate?" Marilla lookd dubius for a moment. Then she lafd. "If u ar I gess I am too, Ann, for Rachel ofn has that very efect on me. I somtimes think she'd hav mor of an influence for good, as u say yrself, if she didnt keep nagng peple to do ryt. Ther shud hav been a special comandmnt against nagng. But ther, I shudnt talk so. Rachel is a good Cristian womn and she means wel. Ther isnt a kindr sol in Avonlea and she nevr shirks her share of work." "I'm very glad u feel th same," said Ann decidedly. "It's so encurajng. I shant worry so much over that aftr this. But I dare say ther'l be othr things to worry me. They keep comng up new al th time--things to perplex u, u no. U setl one question and ther's anothr ryt aftr. Ther ar so many things to be thot over and decided wen u'r beginng to gro up. It keeps me busy al th time thinkng them over and deciding wat is ryt. It's a serius thing to gro up, isnt it, Marilla? But wen I hav such good frends as u and Mathew and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy I ot to gro up succesfuly, and I'm sure it wil be my own falt if I dont. I feel it's a gret responsbility because I hav only th one chance. If I dont gro up ryt I cant go bak and begin over again. I'v grown two inchs this sumr, Marilla. Mr. Gillis mesurd me at Ruby's party. I'm so glad u made my new dresses longr. That dark-green one is so pretty and it was sweet of u to put on th flounce. Of corse I no it wasnt realy necesry, but flounces ar so stylish this fal and Josi Pye has flounces on al her dresses. I no I'l be able to study betr because of mine. I shal hav such a comfrtbl feelng deep down in my mind about that flounce." "It's worth somthing to hav that," admitd Marilla. Miss Stacy came bak to Avonlea scool and found al her pupils eagr for work once mor. Especialy did th Queen's class gird up ther loins for th fray, for at th end of th comng year, dimly shadoing ther pathway alredy, loomd up that fateful thing nown as "th Entrnce," at th thot of wich one and al felt ther harts sink into ther very shoes. Supose they did not pass! That thot was doomd to haunt Ann thru th waking ours of that wintr, Sunday aftrnoons inclusiv, to th almost entire exclusion of moral and theolojicl problms. Wen Ann had bad dreams she found herself staring misrbly at pass lists of th Entrnce exams, wher Gilbrt Blythe's name was blazond at th top and in wich hers did not apear at al. But it was a jolly, busy, happy swift-flyng wintr. Scoolwork was as intrestng, class rivalry as absorbng, as of yore. New worlds of thot, feelng, and ambition, fresh, fasnating fields of unexplord nolej seemd to be openng out befor Anne's eagr ys. "Hils peepd oer hil and Alps on Alps arose." Much of al this was du to Miss Stacy's tactful, careful, brodmindd gidance. She led her class to think and explor and discovr for themselvs and encurajd strayng from th old beatn paths to a degree that quite shokd Mrs. Lynde and th scool trusts, ho vewd al inovations on establishd methods rathr dubiusly. Apart from her studis Ann expandd socialy, for Marilla, mindful of th Spencervale doctor's dictm, no longr vetod ocasionl outngs. Th Debating Club flurishd and gave sevrl concerts; ther wer one or two partis almost verjng on grown-up afairs; ther wer slei drives and skating frolics galor. Betweentimes Ann grew, shootng up so rapidly that Marilla was astonishd one day, wen they wer standng side by side, to find th girl was talr than herself. "Wy, Ann, how u'v grown!" she said, almost unbelievingly. A sy folod on th words. Marilla felt a queer regret over Anne's inchs. Th child she had lernd to lov had vanishd somhow and here was this tal, serius-yd girl of fifteen, with th thotful brows and th proudly poisd litl hed, in her place. Marilla lovd th girl as much as she had lovd th child, but she was concius of a queer soroful sense of loss. And that nyt, wen Ann had gon to prayr meetng with Diana, Marilla sat alone in th wintry twilyt and induljd in th weakness of a cry. Mathew, comng in with a lantrn, caut her at it and gazed at her in such constrnation that Marilla had to laf thru her tears. "I was thinkng about Ann," she explaind. "She's got to be such a big girl--and she'l probbly be away from us next wintr. I'l miss her teribl." "She'l be able to com home ofn," comfrtd Mathew, to hom Ann was as yet and always wud be th litl, eagr girl he had brot home from Bryt Rivr on that June evenng four years befor. "Th branch railroad wil be bilt to Carmody by that time." "It wont be th same thing as havng her here al th time," syd Marilla gloomily, determnd to enjoy her luxury of grief uncomforted. "But ther--men cant undrstand these things!" Ther wer othr chanjes in Ann no less real than th fysicl chanje. For one thing, she became much quietr. Perhaps she thot al th mor and dreamd as much as evr, but she certnly talkd less. Marilla noticed and comentd on this also. "U dont chatr half as much as u used to, Ann, nor use half as many big words. Wat has com over u?" Ann colord and lafd a litl, as she dropd her book and lookd dreamily out of th windo, wher big fat red buds wer burstng out on th creepr in response to th lure of th spring sunshine. "I dont no--I dont want to talk as much," she said, denting her chin thotfuly with her forfingr. "It's nicer to think dear, pretty thots and keep them in one's hart, like tresurs. I dont like to hav them lafd at or wondrd over. And somhow I dont want to use big words any mor. It's almost a pity, isnt it, now that I'm realy groing big enuf to say them if I did want to. It's fun to be almost grown up in som ways, but it's not th kind of fun I expectd, Marilla. Ther's so much to lern and do and think that ther isnt time for big words. Besides, Miss Stacy says th short ones ar much strongr and betr. She makes us rite al our esays as simply as posbl. It was hard at first. I was so used to crowdng in al th fine big words I cud think of--and I thot of any numbr of them. But I'v got used to it now and I se it's so much betr." "Wat has becom of yr story club? I havnt herd u speak of it for a long time." "Th story club isnt in existnce any longr. We hadnt time for it--and anyhow I think we had got tired of it. It was silly to be riting about lov and murdr and elopements and mystris. Miss Stacy somtimes has us rite a story for trainng in composition, but she wont let us rite anything but wat myt hapn in Avonlea in our own lives, and she criticizes it very sharply and makes us criticize our own too. I nevr thot my compositions had so many falts until I began to look for them myself. I felt so ashamed I wantd to giv up altogethr, but Miss Stacy said I cud lern to rite wel if I only traind myself to be my own severest critic. And so I am tryng to." "U'v only two mor months befor th Entrnce," said Marilla. "Do u think u'l be able to get thru?" Ann shivrd. "I dont no. Somtimes I think I'l be al ryt--and then I get horibly afraid. We'v studid hard and Miss Stacy has drild us thoroly, but we mayn't get thru for al that. We'v each got a stumblng blok. Mine is jeometry of corse, and Jane's is Latn, and Ruby and Charlie's is aljebra, and Josie's is arithmetic. Moody Spurgeon says he feels it in his bones that he is going to fail in English histry. Miss Stacy is going to giv us examnations in June just as hard as we'l hav at th Entrnce and mark us just as strictly, so we'l hav som idea. I wish it was al over, Marilla. It haunts me. Somtimes I wake up in th nyt and wondr wat I'l do if I dont pass." "Wy, go to scool next year and try again," said Marilla unconcernedly. "O, I dont beleve I'd hav th hart for it. It wud be such a disgrace to fail, especialy if Gil--if th othrs pasd. And I get so nervus in an examnation that I'm likely to make a mess of it. I wish I had nervs like Jane Andrews. Nothing ratls her." Ann syd and, dragng her ys from th witcheries of th spring world, th beknng day of breze and blu, and th green things upspringing in th gardn, burid herself reslutely in her book. Ther wud be othr springs, but if she did not succeed in pasng th Entrnce, Ann felt convinced that she wud nevr recovr suficiently to enjoy them. CHAPTR XXXII Th Pass List Is Out With th end of June came th close of th term and th close of Miss Stacy's rule in Avonlea scool. Ann and Diana walkd home that evenng feelng very sober indeed. Red ys and damp hankrchiefs bor convincing testmny to th fact that Miss Stacy's farewel words must hav been quite as tuchng as Mr. Phillips's had been undr simlr circmstnces thre years befor. Diana lookd bak at th scoolhouse from th foot of th spruce hil and syd deeply. "It dos seem as if it was th end of everything, dosnt it?" she said dismly. "U otnt to feel half as badly as I do," said Ann, huntng vainly for a dry spot on her hankrchief. "U'l be bak again next wintr, but I supose I'v left th dear old scool forevr-- if I hav good luk, that is." "It wont be a bit th same. Miss Stacy wont be ther, nor u nor Jane nor Ruby probbly. I shal hav to sit al alone, for I cudnt ber to hav anothr deskmate aftr u. O, we hav had jolly times, havnt we, Ann? It's dredful to think they'r al over." Two big tears rold down by Diana's nose. "If u wud stop cryng I cud," said Ann imploringly. "Just as soon as I put away my hanky I se u brimng up and that starts me off again. As Mrs. Lynde says, `If u cant be cheerful, be as cheerful as u can.' Aftr al, I dare say I'l be bak next year. This is one of th times I NO I'm not going to pass. They'r getng alarmngly frequent." "Wy, u came out splendidly in th exams Miss Stacy gave." "Yes, but those exams didnt make me nervus. Wen I think of th real thing u cant imajn wat a horid cold fluttery feelng coms round my hart. And then my numbr is thirteen and Josi Pye says it's so unlucky. I am NOT superstitius and I no it can make no difrnce. But stil I wish it wasnt thirteen." "I do wish I was going in with u," said Diana. "Wudnt we hav a perfectly elegnt time? But I supose u'l hav to cram in th evenngs." "No; Miss Stacy has made us promis not to open a book at al. She says it wud only tire and confuse us and we ar to go out walkng and not think about th exams at al and go to bed erly. It's good advice, but I expect it wil be hard to folo; good advice is apt to be, I think. Prissy Andrews told me that she sat up half th nyt evry nyt of her Entrnce week and cramd for dear life; and I had determnd to sit up AT LEAST as long as she did. It was so kind of yr Ant Josefine to ask me to stay at Beechwood wile I'm in town." "U'l rite to me wile u'r in, wont u?" "I'l rite Tuesday nyt and tel u how th first day gos," promisd Ann. "I'l be hauntng th post ofice Wensday," vowd Diana. Ann went to town th foloing Monday and on Wensday Diana hauntd th post ofice, as agreed, and got her letr. "Dearst Diana" [rote Ann], "Here it is Tuesday nyt and I'm riting this in th libry at Beechwood. Last nyt I was horibly lonesm al alone in my room and wishd so much u wer with me. I cudnt "cram" because I'd promisd Miss Stacy not to, but it was as hard to keep from openng my histry as it used to be to keep from readng a story befor my lesns wer lernd. "This mornng Miss Stacy came for me and we went to th Acadmy, calng for Jane and Ruby and Josi on our way. Ruby askd me to feel her hands and they wer as cold as ice. Josi said I lookd as if I hadnt slept a wink and she didnt beleve I was strong enuf to stand th grind of th teacher's corse even if I did get thru. Ther ar times and seasns even yet wen I dont feel that I'v made any gret hedway in lernng to like Josi Pye! "Wen we reachd th Acadmy ther wer scors of students ther from al over th Iland. Th first persn we saw was Moody Spurgeon sitng on th steps and mutrng away to himself. Jane askd him wat on erth he was doing and he said he was repeatng th multiplication table over and over to stedy his nervs and for pity's sake not to intrupt him, because if he stopd for a moment he got frytnd and forgot everything he evr new, but th multiplication table kept al his facts firmly in ther propr place! "Wen we wer asynd to our rooms Miss Stacy had to leve us. Jane and I sat togethr and Jane was so composed that I envid her. No need of th multiplication table for good, stedy, sensbl Jane! I wondrd if I lookd as I felt and if they cud hear my hart thumpng clear across th room. Then a man came in and began distributing th English examnation sheets. My hands grew cold then and my hed fairly wirld around as I pikd it up. Just one awful moment--Diana, I felt exactly as I did four years ago wen I askd Marilla if I myt stay at Green Gables--and then everything cleard up in my mind and my hart began beatng again--I forgot to say that it had stopd altogethr!--for I new I cud do somthing with THAT paper anyhow. "At noon we went home for dinr and then bak again for histry in th aftrnoon. Th histry was a pretty hard paper and I got dredfuly mixd up in th dates. Stil, I think I did fairly wel today. But o, Diana, tomoro th jeometry exam coms off and wen I think of it it takes evry bit of determnation I posess to keep from openng my Euclid. If I thot th multiplication table wud help me any I wud recite it from now til tomoro mornng. "I went down to se th othr girls this evenng. On my way I met Moody Spurgeon wandrng distractdly around. He said he new he had faild in histry and he was born to be a disapointmnt to his parents and he was going home on th mornng train; and it wud be esir to be a carpntr than a ministr, anyhow. I cheerd him up and persuaded him to stay to th end because it wud be unfair to Miss Stacy if he didnt. Somtimes I hav wishd I was born a boy, but wen I se Moody Spurgeon I'm always glad I'm a girl and not his sistr. "Ruby was in hysterics wen I reachd ther boardinghouse; she had just discovrd a fearful mistake she had made in her English paper. Wen she recovrd we went uptown and had an ice cream. How we wishd u had been with us. "O, Diana, if only th jeometry examnation wer over! But ther, as Mrs. Lynde wud say, th sun wil go on rising and setng wethr I fail in jeometry or not. That is tru but not especialy comfrtng. I think I'd rathr it didnt go on if I faild! Yrs devotedly, Ann" Th jeometry examnation and al th othrs wer over in du time and Ann arived home on Friday evenng, rathr tired but with an air of chasend triumf about her. Diana was over at Green Gables wen she arived and they met as if they had been partd for years. "U old darlng, it's perfectly splendid to se u bak again. It seems like an aje since u went to town and o, Ann, how did u get along?" "Pretty wel, I think, in everything but th jeometry. I dont no wethr I pasd in it or not and I hav a creepy, crawly presentmnt that I didnt. O, how good it is to be bak! Green Gables is th dearst, lovliest spot in th world." "How did th othrs do?" "Th girls say they no they didnt pass, but I think they did pretty wel. Josi says th jeometry was so esy a child of ten cud do it! Moody Spurgeon stil thinks he faild in histry and Charli says he faild in aljebra. But we dont realy no anything about it and wont until th pass list is out. That wont be for a fortnyt. Fancy livng a fortnyt in such suspense! I wish I cud go to sleep and nevr wake up until it is over." Diana new it wud be useless to ask how Gilbrt Blythe had fared, so she merely said: "O, u'l pass al ryt. Dont worry." "I'd rathr not pass at al than not com out pretty wel up on th list," flashd Ann, by wich she ment--and Diana new she ment--that success wud be incomplete and bitr if she did not com out ahed of Gilbrt Blythe. With this end in vew Ann had straind evry nerv during th examnations. So had Gilbrt. They had met and pasd each othr on th street a dozn times without any syn of recognition and evry time Ann had held her hed a litl hyr and wishd a litl mor ernestly that she had made frends with Gilbrt wen he askd her, and vowd a litl mor determndly to surpass him in th examnation. She new that al Avonlea junir was wondrng wich wud com out first; she even new that Jimmy Glovr and Ned Ryt had a bet on th question and that Josi Pye had said ther was no dout in th world that Gilbrt wud be first; and she felt that her humiliation wud be unberbl if she faild. But she had anothr and nobler motiv for wishng to do wel. She wantd to "pass hy" for th sake of Mathew and Marilla-- especialy Mathew. Mathew had declared to her his conviction that she "wud beat th hole Iland." That, Ann felt, was somthing it wud be foolish to hope for even in th wildst dreams. But she did hope fervntly that she wud be among th first ten at least, so that she myt se Matthew's kindly brown ys gleam with pride in her achevemnt. That, she felt, wud be a sweet reward indeed for al her hard work and patient grubng among unimajnativ equations and conjugations. At th end of th fortnyt Ann took to "hauntng" th post ofice also, in th distractd compny of Jane, Ruby, and Josi, openng th Charlottetown dailis with shaking hands and cold, sinkaway feelngs as bad as any experienced during th Entrnce week. Charli and Gilbrt wer not abov doing this too, but Moody Spurgeon stayd reslutely away. "I havnt got th grit to go ther and look at a paper in cold blod," he told Ann. "I'm just going to wait until sombody coms and tels me sudnly wethr I'v pasd or not." Wen thre weeks had gon by without th pass list apearng Ann began to feel that she realy cudnt stand th strain much longr. Her apetite faild and her intrest in Avonlea doings languishd. Mrs. Lynde wantd to no wat else u cud expect with a Tory superintendnt of education at th hed of afairs, and Mathew, noting Anne's paleness and indifrnce and th lagng steps that bor her home from th post ofice evry aftrnoon, began seriusly to wondr if he hadnt betr vote Grit at th next election. But one evenng th news came. Ann was sitng at her open windo, for th time forgetful of th wos of examnations and th cares of th world, as she drank in th buty of th sumr dusk, sweet-sentd with flowr breths from th gardn belo and siblnt and ruslng from th stir of poplrs. Th eastrn sky abov th firs was flushd faintly pink from th reflection of th west, and Ann was wondrng dreamily if th spirit of color lookd like that, wen she saw Diana com flyng down thru th firs, over th log brij, and up th slope, with a flutrng newspaper in her hand. Ann sprang to her feet, noing at once wat that paper containd. Th pass list was out! Her hed wirld and her hart beat until it hurt her. She cud not move a step. It seemd an our to her befor Diana came rushng along th hal and burst into th room without even nokng, so gret was her exitemnt. "Ann, u'v pasd," she cryd, "pasd th VERY FIRST--u and Gilbrt both--u'r ties--but yr name is first. O, I'm so proud!" Diana flung th paper on th table and herself on Anne's bed, utrly brethless and incapabl of furthr speech. Ann lytd th lamp, oversetting th mach safe and using up half a dozn machs befor her shaking hands cud acomplish th task. Then she snachd up th paper. Yes, she had pasd--ther was her name at th very top of a list of two hundred! That moment was worth livng for. "U did just splendidly, Ann," pufd Diana, recovrng suficiently to sit up and speak, for Ann, starry yd and rapt, had not utrd a word. "Fathr brot th paper home from Bryt Rivr not ten minuts ago--it came out on th aftrnoon train, u no, and wont be here til tomoro by mail--and wen I saw th pass list I just rushd over like a wild thing. U'v al pasd, evry one of u, Moody Spurgeon and al, altho he's conditiond in histry. Jane and Ruby did pretty wel--they'r halfway up--and so did Charli. Josi just scraped thru with thre marks to spare, but u'l se she'l put on as many airs as if she'd led. Wont Miss Stacy be delytd? O, Ann, wat dos it feel like to se yr name at th hed of a pass list like that? If it wer me I no I'd go crazy with joy. I am pretty near crazy as it is, but u'r as calm and cool as a spring evenng." "I'm just dazld inside," said Ann. "I want to say a hundred things, and I cant find words to say them in. I nevr dreamd of this--yes, I did too, just once! I let myself think ONCE, `Wat if I shud com out first?' quakingly, u no, for it seemd so vain and presumtuus to think I cud led th Iland. Excuse me a minut, Diana. I must run ryt out to th field to tel Mathew. Then we'l go up th road and tel th good news to th othrs." They hurrid to th hayfield belo th barn wher Mathew was coilng hay, and, as luk wud hav it, Mrs. Lynde was talkng to Marilla at th lane fence. "O, Mathew," exclaimd Ann, "I'v pasd and I'm first--or one of th first! I'm not vain, but I'm thankful." "Wel now, I always said it," said Mathew, gazing at th pass list delytdly. "I new u cud beat them al esy." "U'v don pretty wel, I must say, Ann," said Marilla, tryng to hide her extreme pride in Ann from Mrs. Rachel's criticl y. But that good sol said hartily: "I just gess she has don wel, and far be it from me to be bakwrd in sayng it. U'r a credit to yr frends, Ann, that's wat, and we'r al proud of u." That nyt Ann, ho had wound up th delytful evenng with a serius litl talk with Mrs. Allan at th manse, nelt sweetly by her open windo in a gret sheen of moonshine and murmrd a prayr of gratitude and aspration that came strait from her hart. Ther was in it thankfulness for th past and revrnt petition for th futur; and wen she slept on her wite pilo her dreams wer as fair and bryt and butiful as maidenhood myt desire. CHAPTR XXXIII Th Hotel Concert Put on yr wite organdy, by al means, Ann," advised Diana decidedly. They wer togethr in th east gable chamber; outside it was only twilyt--a lovly yeloish-green twilyt with a clear-blu cloudless sky. A big round moon, sloly deepnng from her palid lustr into burnishd silvr, hung over th Hauntd Wood; th air was ful of sweet sumr sounds--sleepy birds twitrng, freakish brezes, faraway voices and laftr. But in Anne's room th blind was drawn and th lamp lytd, for an importnt toilet was being made. Th east gable was a very difrnt place from wat it had been on that nyt four years befor, wen Ann had felt its bareness penetrate to th maro of her spirit with its inhospitbl chil. Chanjes had crept in, Marilla coniving at them resynedly, until it was as sweet and dainty a nest as a yung girl cud desire. Th velvet carpet with th pink roses and th pink silk curtns of Anne's erly visions had certnly nevr materialized; but her dreams had kept pace with her groth, and it is not probbl she lamentd them. Th flor was covrd with a pretty matng, and th curtns that sofnd th hy windo and flutrd in th vagrant brezes wer of pale-green art musln. Th walls, hung not with gold and silvr brocade tapestry, but with a dainty apl-blosm paper, wer adornd with a few good picturs givn Ann by Mrs. Allan. Miss Stacy's fotograf ocupyd th place of onr, and Ann made a sentmentl point of keepng fresh flowrs on th braket undr it. Tonyt a spike of wite lilis faintly perfumed th room like th dream of a fragrance. Ther was no "mahogny furnitur," but ther was a wite-paintd bookcase fild with books, a cushnd wikr rokr, a toilet table befrilled with wite musln, a quaint, gilt-framed mirr with chubby pink Cupids and purpl grapes paintd over its archd top, that used to hang in th spare room, and a lo wite bed. Ann was dresng for a concert at th Wite Sands Hotel. Th gests had got it up in aid of th Charlottetown hospitl, and had huntd out al th availbl amatr talent in th suroundng districts to help it along. Bertha Sampson and Perl Clay of th Wite Sands Baptist coir had been askd to sing a duet; Milton Clark of Newbridge was to giv a violin solo; Winni Adella Blair of Carmody was to sing a Scoch balad; and Laura Spencer of Spencervale and Ann Shirly of Avonlea wer to recite. As Ann wud hav said at one time, it was "an epoc in her life," and she was deliciusly athrill with th exitemnt of it. Mathew was in th sevnth hevn of gratifyd pride over th onr conferd on his Ann and Marilla was not far behind, altho she wud hav died rathr than admit it, and said she didnt think it was very propr for a lot of yung folks to be gadding over to th hotel without any responsbl persn with them. Ann and Diana wer to drive over with Jane Andrews and her brothr Billy in ther dubl-seatd buggy; and sevrl othr Avonlea girls and boys wer going too. Ther was a party of visitrs expectd out from town, and aftr th concert a supr was to be givn to th performrs. "Do u realy think th organdy wil be best?" querid Ann anxiusly. "I dont think it's as pretty as my blu-flowrd musln--and it certnly isnt so fashnbl." "But it suits u evr so much betr," said Diana. "It's so soft and frilly and clingng. Th musln is stif, and makes u look too dresd up. But th organdy seems as if it grew on u." Ann syd and yieldd. Diana was beginng to hav a reputation for notebl taste in dresng, and her advice on such subjects was much sot aftr. She was lookng very pretty herself on this particulr nyt in a dress of th lovly wild-rose pink, from wich Ann was forevr debard; but she was not to take any part in th concert, so her apearnce was of minor importnce. Al her pains wer bestod upon Ann, ho, she vowd, must, for th credit of Avonlea, be dresd and combd and adornd to th Queen's taste. "Pul out that fril a litl mor--so; here, let me tie yr sash; now for yr sliprs. I'm going to braid yr hair in two thik braids, and tie them halfway up with big wite bos--no, dont pul out a singl curl over yr forhed--just hav th soft part. Ther is no way u do yr hair suits u so wel, Ann, and Mrs. Allan says u look like a Madona wen u part it so. I shal fasn this litl wite house rose just behind yr ear. Ther was just one on my bush, and I saved it for u." "Shal I put my perl beads on?" askd Ann. "Mathew brot me a string from town last week, and I no he'd like to se them on me." Diana pursd up her lips, put her blak hed on one side criticly, and finaly pronounced in favor of th beads, wich wer therupon tied around Anne's slim milk-wite throat. "Ther's somthing so stylish about u, Ann," said Diana, with unenvious admration. "U hold yr hed with such an air. I supose it's yr figr. I am just a dumplng. I'v always been afraid of it, and now I no it is so. Wel, I supose I shal just hav to resyn myself to it." "But u hav such dimpls," said Ann, smiling afectionatly into th pretty, vivacius face so near her own. "Lovly dimpls, like litl dents in cream. I hav givn up al hope of dimpls. My dimpl-dream wil nevr com tru; but so many of my dreams hav that I musnt complain. Am I al redy now?" "Al redy," asured Diana, as Marilla apeard in th dorway, a gaunt figr with grayer hair than of yore and no fewr angls, but with a much softr face. "Com ryt in and look at our elocutionist, Marilla. Dosnt she look lovly?" Marilla emitd a sound between a snif and a grunt. "She looks neat and propr. I like that way of fixng her hair. But I expect she'l ruin that dress driving over ther in th dust and dew with it, and it looks most too thin for these damp nyts. Organdy's th most unserviceable stuf in th world anyhow, and I told Mathew so wen he got it. But ther is no use in sayng anything to Mathew nowadays. Time was wen he wud take my advice, but now he just bys things for Ann regardless, and th clerks at Carmody no they can palm anything off on him. Just let them tel him a thing is pretty and fashnbl, and Mathew plunks his mony down for it. Mind u keep yr skirt clear of th weel, Ann, and put yr warm jaket on." Then Marilla stalkd downstairs, thinkng proudly how sweet Ann lookd, with that "One moonbeam from th forhed to th crown" and regretng that she cud not go to th concert herself to hear her girl recite. "I wondr if it IS too damp for my dress," said Ann anxiusly. "Not a bit of it," said Diana, pulng up th windo blind. "It's a perfect nyt, and ther wont be any dew. Look at th moonlyt." "I'm so glad my windo looks east into th sunrising," said Ann, going over to Diana. "It's so splendid to se th mornng comng up over those long hils and gloing thru those sharp fir tops. It's new evry mornng, and I feel as if I washd my very sol in that bath of erliest sunshine. O, Diana, I lov this litl room so dearly. I dont no how I'l get along without it wen I go to town next month." "Dont speak of yr going away tonyt," begd Diana. "I dont want to think of it, it makes me so misrbl, and I do want to hav a good time this evenng. Wat ar u going to recite, Ann? And ar u nervus?" "Not a bit. I'v recited so ofn in public I dont mind at al now. I'v decided to giv `Th Maiden's Vow.' It's so pathetic. Laura Spencer is going to giv a comic recitation, but I'd rathr make peple cry than laf." "Wat wil u recite if they encor u?" "They wont dream of encoring me," scofd Ann, ho was not without her own secret hopes that they wud, and alredy visioned herself telng Mathew al about it at th next morning's brekfast table. "Ther ar Billy and Jane now-- I hear th weels. Com on." Billy Andrews insistd that Ann shud ride on th front seat with him, so she unwilngly climbd up. She wud hav much preferd to sit bak with th girls, wher she cud hav lafd and chatrd to her heart's content. Ther was not much of eithr laftr or chatr in Billy. He was a big, fat, stolid yuth of twenty, with a round, expressionless face, and a painful lak of convrsationl gifts. But he admired Ann imensly, and was pufd up with pride over th prospect of driving to Wite Sands with that slim, upryt figr beside him. Ann, by dint of talkng over her sholdr to th girls and ocasionly pasng a sop of civility to Billy--ho grinnd and chukld and nevr cud think of any reply until it was too late--contrived to enjoy th drive in spite of al. It was a nyt for enjoymnt. Th road was ful of buggis, al bound for th hotel, and laftr, silvr clear, ecod and reechoed along it. Wen they reachd th hotel it was a blaze of lyt from top to botm. They wer met by th ladis of th concert comitee, one of hom took Ann off to th performers' dresng room wich was fild with th membrs of a Charlottetown Symfny Club, among hom Ann felt sudnly shy and frytnd and cuntrifyd. Her dress, wich, in th east gable, had seemd so dainty and pretty, now seemd simpl and plan--too simpl and plan, she thot, among al th silks and laces that glisnd and rusld around her. Wat wer her perl beads compared to th diamnds of th big, hansm lady near her? And how poor her one we wite rose must look beside al th hothouse flowrs th othrs wor! Ann laid her hat and jaket away, and shrank misrbly into a cornr. She wishd herself bak in th wite room at Green Gables. It was stil worse on th platform of th big concert hal of th hotel, wher she presntly found herself. Th electric lyts dazld her ys, th perfume and hum bewildrd her. She wishd she wer sitng down in th audience with Diana and Jane, ho seemd to be havng a splendid time away at th bak. She was wejd in between a stout lady in pink silk and a tal, scornful-lookng girl in a wite-lace dress. Th stout lady ocasionly turnd her hed squarely around and surveyd Ann thru her yglasses until Ann, acutely sensitiv of being so scrutinized, felt that she must scream aloud; and th wite-lace girl kept talkng audbly to her next neibr about th "cuntry bumpkins" and "rustic belles" in th audience, languidly anticipating "such fun" from th displays of local talent on th program. Ann beleved that she wud hate that wite-lace girl to th end of life. Unfortunatly for Ann, a professionl elocutionist was stayng at th hotel and had consentd to recite. She was a lithe, dark-yd womn in a wondrful gown of shimrng gray stuf like woven moonbeams, with jems on her nek and in her dark hair. She had a marvlusly flexbl voice and wondrful powr of expression; th audience went wild over her selection. Ann, forgetng al about herself and her trubls for th time, lisnd with rapt and shining ys; but wen th recitation endd she sudnly put her hands over her face. She cud nevr get up and recite aftr that--nevr. Had she evr thot she cud recite? O, if she wer only bak at Green Gables! At this unpropitious moment her name was cald. Somhow Ann--ho did not notice th rathr gilty litl start of surprise th wite-lace girl gave, and wud not hav undrstood th sutl complmnt implyd therin if she had--got on her feet, and moved dizzily out to th front. She was so pale that Diana and Jane, down in th audience, claspd each other's hands in nervus sympathy. Ann was th victm of an overwelmng atak of staje fryt. Ofn as she had recited in public, she had nevr befor faced such an audience as this, and th syt of it paralyzd her enrjis completely. Everything was so stranje, so briliant, so bewildrng--th ros of ladis in evenng dress, th criticl faces, th hole atmosfere of welth and cultur about her. Very difrnt this from th plan benchs at th Debating Club, fild with th homely, sympathetic faces of frends and neibrs. These peple, she thot, wud be merciless critics. Perhaps, like th wite-lace girl, they anticipated amusemnt from her "rustic" efrts. She felt hopelesly, helplesly ashamed and misrbl. Her nes trembld, her hart flutrd, a horibl faintness came over her; not a word cud she utr, and th next moment she wud hav fled from th platform despite th humiliation wich, she felt, must evr aftr be her portion if she did so. But sudnly, as her dilated, frytnd ys gazed out over th audience, she saw Gilbrt Blythe away at th bak of th room, bendng forwrd with a smile on his face--a smile wich seemd to Ann at once triumfnt and tauntng. In reality it was nothing of th kind. Gilbrt was merely smiling with apreciation of th hole afair in jenrl and of th efect produced by Anne's slendr wite form and spiritul face against a bakground of palms in particulr. Josi Pye, hom he had drivn over, sat beside him, and her face certnly was both triumfnt and tauntng. But Ann did not se Josi, and wud not hav cared if she had. She drew a long breth and flung her hed up proudly, curaj and determnation tinglng over her like an electric shok. She WUD NOT fail befor Gilbrt Blythe--he shud nevr be able to laf at her, nevr, nevr! Her fryt and nervusness vanishd; and she began her recitation, her clear, sweet voice reachng to th farthst cornr of th room without a tremr or a brek. Self-posession was fuly restord to her, and in th reaction from that horibl moment of powrlesness she recited as she had nevr don befor. Wen she finishd ther wer bursts of onest aplause. Ann, stepng bak to her seat, blushng with shyness and delyt, found her hand vigrusly claspd and shaken by th stout lady in pink silk. "My dear, u did splendidly," she pufd. "I'v been cryng like a baby, actuly I hav. Ther, they'r encoring u-- they'r bound to hav u bak!" "O, I cant go," said Ann confusedly. "But yet--I must, or Mathew wil be disapointd. He said they wud encor me." "Then dont disapoint Mathew," said th pink lady, lafng. Smiling, blushng, limpid yd, Ann tripd bak and gave a quaint, funny litl selection that captivated her audience stil furthr. Th rest of th evenng was quite a litl triumf for her. Wen th concert was over, th stout, pink lady--ho was th wife of an Americn milionair--took her undr her wing, and introduced her to evrybody; and evrybody was very nice to her. Th professionl elocutionist, Mrs. Evans, came and chatd with her, telng her that she had a charmng voice and "interpretd" her selections butifuly. Even th wite-lace girl paid her a languid litl complmnt. They had supr in th big, butifuly decrated dining room; Diana and Jane wer invited to partake of this, also, since they had com with Ann, but Billy was nowher to be found, havng decamped in mortl fear of som such invitation. He was in waitng for them, with th team, howevr, wen it was al over, and th thre girls came merrily out into th calm, wite moonshine radiance. Ann brethed deeply, and lookd into th clear sky beyond th dark bous of th firs. O, it was good to be out again in th purity and silence of th nyt! How gret and stil and wondrful everything was, with th murmr of th se soundng thru it and th darklng clifs beyond like grim jiants gardng enchantd coasts. "Hasnt it been a perfectly splendid time?" syd Jane, as they drove away. "I just wish I was a rich Americn and cud spend my sumr at a hotel and wer jewls and lo-nekd dresses and hav ice cream and chikn salad evry blesd day. I'm sure it wud be evr so much mor fun than teachng scool. Ann, yr recitation was simply gret, altho I thot at first u wer nevr going to begin. I think it was betr than Mrs. Evans's." "O, no, dont say things like that, Jane," said Ann quikly, "because it sounds silly. It cudnt be betr than Mrs. Evans's, u no, for she is a professionl, and I'm only a scoolgirl, with a litl nak of reciting. I'm quite satisfyd if th peple just liked mine pretty wel." "I'v a complmnt for u, Ann," said Diana. "At least I think it must be a complmnt because of th tone he said it in. Part of it was anyhow. Ther was an Americn sitng behind Jane and me--such a romantic-lookng man, with coal-blak hair and ys. Josi Pye says he is a distinguishd artist, and that her mother's cusn in Bostn is marrid to a man that used to go to scool with him. Wel, we herd him say--didnt we, Jane?--`Ho is that girl on th platform with th splendid Titian hair? She has a face I shud like to paint.' Ther now, Ann. But wat dos Titian hair mean?" "Being interpretd it means plan red, I gess," lafd Ann. "Titian was a very famus artist ho liked to paint red-haird women." "DID u se al th diamnds those ladis wor?" syd Jane. "They wer simply dazlng. Wudnt u just lov to be rich, girls?" "We AR rich," said Ann staunchly. "Wy, we hav sixteen years to our credit, and we'r happy as queens, and we'v al got imajnations, mor or less. Look at that se, girls--al silvr and shado and vision of things not seen. We cudnt enjoy its lovliness any mor if we had milions of dolrs and ropes of diamnds. U wudnt chanje into any of those women if u cud. Wud u want to be that wite-lace girl and wer a sour look al yr life, as if u'd been born turnng up yr nose at th world? Or th pink lady, kind and nice as she is, so stout and short that u'd realy no figr at al? Or even Mrs. Evans, with that sad, sad look in her ys? She must hav been dredfuly unhappy somtime to hav such a look. U NO u wudnt, Jane Andrews!" "I DONT no--exactly," said Jane unconvinced. "I think diamnds wud comfrt a persn for a good deal." "Wel, I dont want to be anyone but myself, even if I go uncomforted by diamnds al my life," declared Ann. "I'm quite content to be Ann of Green Gables, with my string of perl beads. I no Mathew gave me as much lov with them as evr went with Madame th Pink Lady's jewls." CHAPTR XXXIV A Queen's Girl Th next thre weeks wer busy ones at Green Gables, for Ann was getng redy to go to Queen's, and ther was much sewng to be don, and many things to be talkd over and aranjed. Anne's outfit was ampl and pretty, for Mathew saw to that, and Marilla for once made no objections watevr to anything he purchasd or sujestd. Mor-- one evenng she went up to th east gable with her arms ful of a delicat pale green material. "Ann, here's somthing for a nice lyt dress for u. I dont supose u realy need it; u'v plenty of pretty waists; but I thot maybe u'd like somthing real dressy to wer if u wer askd out anywher of an evenng in town, to a party or anything like that. I hear that Jane and Ruby and Josi hav got `evenng dresses,' as they cal them, and I dont mean u shal be behind them. I got Mrs. Allan to help me pik it in town last week, and we'l get Emly Gillis to make it for u. Emly has got taste, and her fits arnt to be equaled." "O, Marilla, it's just lovly," said Ann. "Thank u so much. I dont beleve u ot to be so kind to me--it's making it harder evry day for me to go away." Th green dress was made up with as many tuks and frils and shirrings as Emily's taste permitd. Ann put it on one evenng for Matthew's and Marilla's benefit, and recited "Th Maiden's Vow" for them in th kichn. As Marilla wachd th bryt, anmated face and graceful motions her thots went bak to th evenng Ann had arived at Green Gables, and memry recald a vivid pictur of th od, frytnd child in her prepostrus yeloish-brown wincey dress, th hartbrek lookng out of her tearful ys. Somthing in th memry brot tears to Marilla's own ys. "I declare, my recitation has made u cry, Marilla," said Ann gaily stoopng over Marilla's chair to drop a butrfly kiss on that lady's cheek. "Now, I cal that a positiv triumf." "No, I wasnt cryng over yr pece," said Marilla, ho wud hav scornd to be betrayd into such weakness by any poetry stuf. "I just cudnt help thinkng of th litl girl u used to be, Ann. And I was wishng u cud hav stayd a litl girl, even with al yr queer ways. U'v grown up now and u'r going away; and u look so tal and stylish and so--so--difrnt altogethr in that dress--as if u didnt belong in Avonlea at al-- and I just got lonesm thinkng it al over." "Marilla!" Ann sat down on Marilla's gingm lap, took Marilla's lined face between her hands, and lookd gravely and tendrly into Marilla's ys. "I'm not a bit chanjed-- not realy. I'm only just pruned down and branchd out. Th real ME--bak here--is just th same. It wont make a bit of difrnce wher I go or how much I chanje outwrdly; at hart I shal always be yr litl Ann, ho wil lov u and Mathew and dear Green Gables mor and betr evry day of her life." Ann laid her fresh yung cheek against Marilla's faded one, and reachd out a hand to pat Matthew's sholdr. Marilla wud hav givn much just then to hav posesd Anne's powr of putng her feelngs into words; but natur and habit had willd it othrwise, and she cud only put her arms close about her girl and hold her tendrly to her hart, wishng that she need nevr let her go. Mathew, with a suspicius moistur in his ys, got up and went out-of-dors. Undr th stars of th blu sumr nyt he walkd agitatedly across th yard to th gate undr th poplrs. "Wel now, I gess she aint been much spoild," he mutrd, proudly. "I gess my putng in my or ocasionl nevr did much harm aftr al. She's smart and pretty, and lovng, too, wich is betr than al th rest. She's been a blesng to us, and ther nevr was a luckir mistake than wat Mrs. Spencer made--if it WAS luk. I dont beleve it was any such thing. It was Providnce, because th Almyty saw we needd her, I rekn." Th day finaly came wen Ann must go to town. She and Mathew drove in one fine Septembr mornng, aftr a tearful partng with Diana and an untearful practicl one-- on Marilla's side at least--with Marilla. But wen Ann had gon Diana dryd her tears and went to a beach picnic at Wite Sands with som of her Carmody cusns, wher she contrived to enjoy herself tolrbly wel; wile Marilla plunjd fiercely into unecesry work and kept at it al day long with th bitrst kind of heartache--th ache that burns and gnaws and canot wash itself away in redy tears. But that nyt, wen Marilla went to bed, acutely and misrbly concius that th litl gable room at th end of th hal was untenntd by any vivid yung life and unstirred by any soft brething, she burid her face in her pilo, and wept for her girl in a passion of sobs that apald her wen she grew calm enuf to reflect how very wiked it must be to take on so about a sinful felo creatur. Ann and th rest of th Avonlea scolrs reachd town just in time to hurry off to th Acadmy. That first day pasd plesntly enuf in a wirl of exitemnt, meetng al th new students, lernng to no th profesrs by syt and being asortd and organized into classes. Ann intendd taking up th Secnd Year work being advised to do so by Miss Stacy; Gilbrt Blythe electd to do th same. This ment getng a First Class teacher's license in one year insted of two, if they wer succesful; but it also ment much mor and harder work. Jane, Ruby, Josi, Charli, and Moody Spurgeon, not being trubld with th stirngs of ambition, wer content to take up th Secnd Class work. Ann was concius of a pang of loneliness wen she found herself in a room with fifty othr students, not one of hom she new, exept th tal, brown-haird boy across th room; and noing him in th fashn she did, did not help her much, as she reflectd pessimistically. Yet she was undenyably glad that they wer in th same class; th old rivalry cud stil be carrid on, and Ann wud hardly hav nown wat to do if it had been lakng. "I wudnt feel comfrtbl without it," she thot. "Gilbrt looks awfuly determnd. I supose he's making up his mind, here and now, to win th medl. Wat a splendid chin he has! I nevr noticed it befor. I do wish Jane and Ruby had gon in for First Class, too. I supose I wont feel so much like a cat in a stranje garet wen I get aquaintd, tho. I wondr wich of th girls here ar going to be my frends. It's realy an intrestng speculation. Of corse I promisd Diana that no Queen's girl, no matr how much I liked her, shud evr be as dear to me as she is; but I'v lots of secnd-best afections to besto. I like th look of that girl with th brown ys and th crimsn waist. She looks vivid and red-rosy; ther's that pale, fair one gazing out of th windo. She has lovly hair, and looks as if she new a thing or two about dreams. I'd like to no them both--no them wel--wel enuf to walk with my arm about ther waists, and cal them niknames. But just now I dont no them and they dont no me, and probbly dont want to no me particulrly. O, it's lonesm!" It was lonesomer stil wen Ann found herself alone in her hal bedroom that nyt at twilyt. She was not to bord with th othr girls, ho al had relativs in town to take pity on them. Miss Josefine Barry wud hav liked to bord her, but Beechwood was so far from th Acadmy that it was out of th question; so miss Barry huntd up a bordng-house, asuring Mathew and Marilla that it was th very place for Ann. "Th lady ho keeps it is a reduced jentlwomn," explaind Miss Barry. "Her husbnd was a British oficer, and she is very careful wat sort of bordrs she takes. Ann wil not meet with any objectionbl persns undr her roof. Th table is good, and th house is near th Acadmy, in a quiet neibrhood." Al this myt be quite tru, and indeed, proved to be so, but it did not materialy help Ann in th first agny of homesikness that sezed upon her. She lookd dismly about her naro litl room, with its dul-paperd, pictureless walls, its smal iron bedsted and emty book- case; and a horibl choke came into her throat as she thot of her own wite room at Green Gables, wher she wud hav th plesnt conciusness of a gret green stil outdors, of sweet pes groing in th gardn, and moonlyt falng on th orchrd, of th brook belo th slope and th spruce bous tosng in th nyt wind beyond it, of a vast starry sky, and th lyt from Diana's windo shining out thru th gap in th tres. Here ther was nothing of this; Ann new that outside of her windo was a hard street, with a network of telefone wires shutng out th sky, th tramp of alien feet, and a thousnd lyts gleamng on stranjer faces. She new that she was going to cry, and fot against it. "I WONT cry. It's silly--and weak--ther's th third tear splashng down by my nose. Ther ar mor comng! I must think of somthing funny to stop them. But ther's nothing funny exept wat is conectd with Avonlea, and that only makes things worse--four--five--I'm going home next Friday, but that seems a hundred years away. O, Mathew is nearly home by now--and Marilla is at th gate, lookng down th lane for him--six--sevn--eit-- o, ther's no use in countng them! They'r comng in a flod presntly. I cant cheer up--I dont WANT to cheer up. It's nicer to be misrbl!" Th flod of tears wud hav com, no dout, had not Josi Pye apeard at that moment. In th joy of seing a familir face Ann forgot that ther had nevr been much lov lost between her and Josi. As a part of Avonlea life even a Pye was welcm. "I'm so glad u came up," Ann said sincerely. "U'v been cryng," remarkd Josi, with agravating pity. "I supose u'r homesik--som peple hav so litl self-control in that respect. I'v no intention of being homesik, I can tel u. Town's too jolly aftr that poky old Avonlea. I wondr how I evr existd ther so long. U shudnt cry, Ann; it isnt becomng, for yr nose and ys get red, and then u seem AL red. I'd a perfectly scrumptious time in th Acadmy today. Our French profesr is simply a duk. His mustach wud giv u kerwollowps of th hart. Hav u anything eatbl around, Ann? I'm litrly starvng. Ah, I gesd likely Marilla'd load u up with cake. That's wy I cald round. Othrwise I'd hav gon to th park to hear th band play with Frank Stockley. He bords same place as I do, and he's a sport. He noticed u in class today, and askd me ho th red-hedd girl was. I told him u wer an orfn that th Cuthberts had adoptd, and nobody new very much about wat u'd been befor that." Ann was wondrng if, aftr al, solitude and tears wer not mor satisfactry than Josi Pye's companionship wen Jane and Ruby apeard, each with an inch of Queen's color ribn--purpl and scarlet--pind proudly to her coat. As Josi was not "speakng" to Jane just then she had to subside into comparativ harmlessness. "Wel," said Jane with a sy, "I feel as if I'd livd many moons since th mornng. I ot to be home studying my Virgil--that horid old profesr gave us twenty lines to start in on tomoro. But I simply cudnt setl down to study tonyt. Ann, methinks I se th traces of tears. If u'v been cryng DO own up. It wil restor my self-respect, for I was shedng tears frely befor Ruby came along. I dont mind being a goose so much if sombody else is goosey, too. Cake? U'l giv me a teeny pece, wont u? Thank u. It has th real Avonlea flavor." Ruby, perceving th Queen's calendr lyng on th table, wantd to no if Ann ment to try for th gold medl. Ann blushd and admitd she was thinkng of it. "O, that reminds me," said Josi, "Queen's is to get one of th Avery scolrships aftr al. Th word came today. Frank Stockley told me--his uncl is one of th bord of govrnrs, u no. It wil be anounced in th Acadmy tomoro." An Avery scolrship! Ann felt her hart beat mor quikly, and th horizons of her ambition shiftd and brodnd as if by majic. Befor Josi had told th news Anne's hyest pinacl of aspration had been a teacher's provincial license, First Class, at th end of th year, and perhaps th medl! But now in one moment Ann saw herself winng th Avery scolrship, taking an Arts corse at Redmond Colej, and graduating in a gown and mortr bord, befor th eco of Josie's words had died away. For th Avery scolrship was in English, and Ann felt that here her foot was on nativ heath.??? A welthy manufacturr of New Brunswick had died and left part of his fortune to endow a larj numbr of scolrships to be distributed among th varius hy scools and acadmis of th Maritime Provnces, acordng to ther respectiv standngs. Ther had been much dout wethr one wud be alotd to Queen's, but th matr was setld at last, and at th end of th year th graduat ho made th hyest mark in English and English Litratur wud win th scolrship-- two hundred and fifty dolrs a year for four years at Redmond Colej. No wondr that Ann went to bed that nyt with tinglng cheeks! "I'l win that scolrship if hard work can do it," she resolvd. "Wudnt Mathew be proud if I got to be a B.A.? O, it's delytful to hav ambitions. I'm so glad I hav such a lot. And ther nevr seems to be any end to them-- that's th best of it. Just as soon as u atain to one ambition u se anothr one glitrng hyr up stil. It dos make life so intrestng." CHAPTR XXXV Th Wintr at Queen's Anne's homesikness wor off, gretly helpd in th werng by her weekend visits home. As long as th open wethr lastd th Avonlea students went out to Carmody on th new branch railway evry Friday nyt. Diana and sevrl othr Avonlea yung folks wer jenrly on hand to meet them and they al walkd over to Avonlea in a merry party. Ann thot those Friday evenng gypsyings over th autumnl hils in th crisp goldn air, with th homelights of Avonlea twinklng beyond, wer th best and dearst ours in th hole week. Gilbrt Blythe nearly always walkd with Ruby Gillis and carrid her sachl for her. Ruby was a very hansm yung lady, now thinkng herself quite as grown up as she realy was; she wor her skirts as long as her mothr wud let her and did her hair up in town, tho she had to take it down wen she went home. She had larj, bryt-blu ys, a briliant complexion, and a plump showy figr. She lafd a gret deal, was cheerful and good-temprd, and enjoyd th plesnt things of life frankly. "But I shudnt think she was th sort of girl Gilbrt wud like," wisprd Jane to Ann. Ann did not think so eithr, but she wud not hav said so for th Avery scolrship. She cud not help thinkng, too, that it wud be very plesnt to hav such a frend as Gilbrt to jest and chatr with and exchanje ideas about books and studis and ambitions. Gilbrt had ambitions, she new, and Ruby Gillis did not seem th sort of persn with hom such cud be profitbly discusd. Ther was no silly sentmnt in Anne's ideas concernng Gilbrt. Boys wer to her, wen she thot about them at al, merely posbl good comrads. If she and Gilbrt had been frends she wud not hav cared how many othr frends he had nor with hom he walkd. She had a jenius for frendship; girl frends she had in plenty; but she had a vage conciusness that masculin frendship myt also be a good thing to round out one's conceptions of companionship and furnish brodr standpoints of jujmnt and comparisn. Not that Ann cud hav put her feelngs on th matr into just such clear defnition. But she thot that if Gilbrt had evr walkd home with her from th train, over th crisp fields and along th ferny byways, they myt hav had many and merry and intrestng convrsations about th new world that was openng around them and ther hopes and ambitions therin. Gilbrt was a clevr yung felo, with his own thots about things and a determnation to get th best out of life and put th best into it. Ruby Gillis told Jane Andrews that she didnt undrstand half th things Gilbrt Blythe said; he talkd just like Ann Shirly did wen she had a thotful fit on and for her part she didnt think it any fun to be bothrng about books and that sort of thing wen u didnt hav to. Frank Stockley had lots mor dash and go, but then he wasnt half as good-lookng as Gilbrt and she realy cudnt decide wich she liked best! In th Acadmy Ann graduly drew a litl circl of frends about her, thotful, imajnativ, ambitius students like herself. With th "rose-red" girl, Stela Maynard, and th "dream girl," Prisila Grant, she soon became intmat, findng th latr pale spiritul-lookng maidn to be ful to th brim of mischif and pranks and fun, wile th vivid, blak-yd Stela had a heartful of wistful dreams and fancis, as aerial and rainbo-like as Anne's own. Aftr th Crismas holidays th Avonlea students gave up going home on Fridays and setld down to hard work. By this time al th Queen's scolrs had gravitated into ther own places in th ranks and th varius classes had asumed distinct and setld shadings of individuality. Certn facts had becom jenrly acceptd. It was admitd that th medl contestnts had practicly narod down to thre--Gilbrt Blythe, Ann Shirly, and Lewis Wilson; th Avery scolrship was mor doutful, any one of a certn six being a posbl winr. Th bronz medl for mathmatics was considrd as good as won by a fat, funny litl up-cuntry boy with a bumpy forhed and a pachd coat. Ruby Gillis was th hansmst girl of th year at th Acadmy; in th Secnd Year classes Stela Maynard carrid off th palm for buty, with smal but criticl minority in favor of Ann Shirly. Ethl Marr was admitd by al competnt jujs to hav th most stylish modes of hair-dresng, and Jane Andrews--plan, plodng, concientius Jane--carrid off th honors in th domestic sience corse. Even Josi Pye ataind a certn preeminence as th sharpst- tongued yung lady in atendnce at Queen's. So it may be fairly stated that Miss Stacy's old pupil's held ther own in th wider arena of th academical corse. Ann workd hard and stedily. Her rivalry with Gilbrt was as intense as it had evr been in Avonlea scool, altho it was not nown in th class at larj, but somhow th bitrness had gon out of it. Ann no longr wishd to win for th sake of defeatng Gilbrt; rathr, for th proud conciusness of a wel-won victry over a worthy foeman. It wud be worth wile to win, but she no longr thot life wud be insuportbl if she did not. In spite of lesns th students found oprtunitis for plesnt times. Ann spent many of her spare ours at Beechwood and jenrly ate her Sunday dinrs ther and went to church with Miss Barry. Th latr was, as she admitd, groing old, but her blak ys wer not dim nor th vigr of her tong in th least abated. But she nevr sharpnd th latr on Ann, ho continud to be a prime favorit with th criticl old lady. "That Ann-girl improves al th time," she said. "I get tired of othr girls--ther is such a provoking and eternl sameness about them. Ann has as many shades as a rainbo and evry shade is th prettiest wile it lasts. I dont no that she is as amusing as she was wen she was a child, but she makes me lov her and I like peple ho make me lov them. It saves me so much trubl in making myself lov them." Then, almost befor anybody realized it, spring had com; out in Avonlea th Mayflowers wer peepng pinkly out on th sere barrens wher sno-reaths lingrd; and th "mist of green" was on th woods and in th vallis. But in Charlottetown harasd Queen's students thot and talkd only of examnations. "It dosnt seem posbl that th term is nearly over," said Ann. "Wy, last fal it seemd so long to look forwrd to--a hole wintr of studis and classes. And here we ar, with th exams loomng up next week. Girls, somtimes I feel as if those exams ment everything, but wen I look at th big buds swelng on those chesnut tres and th misty blu air at th end of th streets they dont seem half so importnt." Jane and Ruby and Josi, ho had dropd in, did not take this vew of it. To them th comng examnations wer constntly very importnt indeed--far mor importnt than chesnut buds or Maytime hazes. It was al very wel for Ann, ho was sure of pasng at least, to hav her moments of belitlng them, but wen yr hole futur dependd on them--as th girls truly thot thers did-- u cud not regard them filosoficly. "I'v lost sevn pounds in th last two weeks," syd Jane. "It's no use to say dont worry. I WIL worry. Worrying helps u som--it seems as if u wer doing somthing wen u'r worrying. It wud be dredful if I faild to get my license aftr going to Queen's al wintr and spendng so much mony." "_I_ dont care," said Josi Pye. "If I dont pass this year I'm comng bak next. My fathr can aford to send me. Ann, Frank Stockley says that Profesr Tremaine said Gilbrt Blythe was sure to get th medl and that Emly Clay wud likely win th Avery scolrship." "That may make me feel badly tomoro, Josi," lafd Ann, "but just now I onestly feel that as long as I no th violets ar comng out al purpl down in th holo belo Green Gables and that litl ferns ar poking ther heds up in Lovers' Lane, it's not a gret deal of difrnce wethr I win th Avery or not. I'v don my best and I begin to undrstand wat is ment by th `joy of th strife.' Next to tryng and winng, th best thing is tryng and failng. Girls, dont talk about exams! Look at that arch of pale green sky over those houses and pictur to yrself wat it must look like over th purply-dark beech-woods bak of Avonlea." "Wat ar u going to wer for comencemnt, Jane?" askd Ruby practicly. Jane and Josi both ansrd at once and th chatr driftd into a side eddy of fashns. But Ann, with her elbos on th windo sil, her soft cheek laid against her claspd hands, and her ys fild with visions, lookd out unheedingly across city roof and spire to that glorius dome of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a posbl futur from th goldn tissu of youth's own optmism. Al th Beyond was hers with its posbilitis lurkng rosily in th oncomng years--each year a rose of promis to be woven into an imortl chaplet. CHAPTR XXXVI Th Glory and th Dream On th mornng wen th final results of al th examina- tions wer to be postd on th buletin bord at Queen's, Ann and Jane walkd down th street togethr. Jane was smiling and happy; examnations wer over and she was comfrtbly sure she had made a pass at least; furthr considrations trubld Jane not at al; she had no sorng ambitions and consequently was not afectd with th unrest atendnt thereon. For we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and altho ambitions ar wel worth havng, they ar not to be cheaply won, but exact ther dues of work and self-denial, anxiety and discurajmnt. Ann was pale and quiet; in ten mor minuts she wud no ho had won th medl and ho th Avery. Beyond those ten minuts ther did not seem, just then, to be anything worth being cald Time. "Of corse u'l win one of them anyhow," said Jane, ho cudnt undrstand how th faclty cud be so unfair as to ordr it othrwise. "I hav not hope of th Avery," said Ann. "Evrybody says Emly Clay wil win it. And I'm not going to march up to that buletin bord and look at it befor evrybody. I havnt th moral curaj. I'm going strait to th girls' dresng room. U must red th anouncemnts and then com and tel me, Jane. And I implor u in th name of our old frendship to do it as quikly as posbl. If I hav faild just say so, without tryng to brek it jently; and watevr u do DONT sympathize with me. Promis me this, Jane." Jane promisd solemly; but, as it hapnd, ther was no necessity for such a promis. Wen they went up th entrnce steps of Queen's they found th hal ful of boys ho wer carrying Gilbrt Blythe around on ther sholdrs and yelng at th tops of ther voices, "Hura for Blythe, Medalist!" For a moment Ann felt one siknng pang of defeat and disapointmnt. So she had faild and Gilbrt had won! Wel, Mathew wud be sorry--he had been so sure she wud win. And then! Sombody cald out: "Thre cheers for Miss Shirly, winr of th Avery!" "O, Ann," gaspd Jane, as they fled to th girls' dresng room amid harty cheers. "O, Ann I'm so proud! Isnt it splendid?" And then th girls wer around them and Ann was th centr of a lafng, congratulating group. Her sholdrs wer thumpd and her hands shaken vigrusly. She was pushd and puld and hugd and among it al she manajd to wispr to Jane: "O, wont Mathew and Marilla be plesed! I must rite th news home ryt away." Comencemnt was th next importnt hapnng. Th exrcises wer held in th big asembly hal of th Acadmy. Adresses wer givn, esays red, songs sung, th public award of diplomas, prizes and medls made. Mathew and Marilla wer ther, with ys and ears for only one student on th platform--a tal girl in pale green, with faintly flushd cheeks and starry ys, ho red th best esay and was pointd out and wisprd about as th Avery winr. "Rekn u'r glad we kept her, Marilla?" wisprd Mathew, speakng for th first time since he had entrd th hal, wen Ann had finishd her esay. "It's not th first time I'v been glad," retortd Marilla. "U do like to rub things in, Mathew Cuthbert." Miss Barry, ho was sitng behind them, leand forwrd and poked Marilla in th bak with her parasol. "Arnt u proud of that Ann-girl? I am," she said. Ann went home to Avonlea with Mathew and Marilla that evenng. She had not been home since April and she felt that she cud not wait anothr day. Th apl blosms wer out and th world was fresh and yung. Diana was at Green Gables to meet her. In her own wite room, wher Marilla had set a flowrng house rose on th windo sil, Ann lookd about her and drew a long breth of happiness. "O, Diana, it's so good to be bak again. It's so good to se those pointd firs comng out against th pink sky-- and that wite orchrd and th old Sno Queen. Isnt th breth of th mint delicius? And that te rose--wy, it's a song and a hope and a prayr al in one. And it's GOOD to se u again, Diana!" "I thot u like that Stela Maynard betr than me," said Diana reproachfuly. "Josi Pye told me u did. Josi said u wer INFATUATED with her." Ann lafd and peltd Diana with th faded "June lilis" of her buqet. "Stela Maynard is th dearst girl in th world exept one and u ar that one, Diana," she said. "I lov u mor than evr--and I'v so many things to tel u. But just now I feel as if it wer joy enuf to sit here and look at u. I'm tired, I think--tired of being studius and ambitius. I mean to spend at least two ours tomoro lyng out in th orchrd grass, thinkng of abslutely nothing." "U'v don splendidly, Ann. I supose u wont be teachng now that u'v won th Avery?" "No. I'm going to Redmond in Septembr. Dosnt it seem wondrful? I'l hav a brand new stok of ambition laid in by that time aftr thre glorius, goldn months of vacation. Jane and Ruby ar going to teach. Isnt it splendid to think we al got thru even to Moody Spurgeon and Josi Pye?" "Th Newbridge trusts hav ofrd Jane ther scool alredy," said Diana. "Gilbrt Blythe is going to teach, too. He has to. His fathr cant aford to send him to colej next year, aftr al, so he means to ern his own way thru. I expect he'l get th scool here if Miss Ames decides to leve." Ann felt a queer litl sensation of dismayd surprise. She had not nown this; she had expectd that Gilbrt wud be going to Redmond also. Wat wud she do without ther inspiring rivalry? Wud not work, even at a coeducational colej with a real degree in prospect, be rathr flat without her frend th enmy? Th next mornng at brekfast it sudnly struk Ann that Mathew was not lookng wel. Surely he was much grayer than he had been a year befor. "Marilla," she said hesitatingly wen he had gon out, "is Mathew quite wel?" "No, he isnt," said Marilla in a trubld tone. "He's had som real bad spels with his hart this spring and he wont spare himself a mite. I'v been real worrid about him, but he's som betr this wile bak and we'v got a good hired man, so I'm hoping he'l kind of rest and pik up. Maybe he wil now u'r home. U always cheer him up." Ann leand across th table and took Marilla's face in her hands. "U ar not lookng as wel yrself as I'd like to se u, Marilla. U look tired. I'm afraid u'v been workng too hard. U must take a rest, now that I'm home. I'm just going to take this one day off to visit al th dear old spots and hunt up my old dreams, and then it wil be yr turn to be lazy wile I do th work." Marilla smiled afectionatly at her girl. "It's not th work--it's my hed. I'v got a pain so ofn now--behind my ys. Doctr Spencer's been fusng with glasses, but they dont do me any good. Ther is a distin- guished oculist comng to th Iland th last of June and th doctr says I must se him. I gess I'l hav to. I cant red or sew with any comfrt now. Wel, Ann, u'v don real wel at Queen's I must say. To take First Class License in one year and win th Avery scolrship--wel, wel, Mrs. Lynde says pride gos befor a fal and she dosnt beleve in th hyr education of women at al; she says it unfits them for woman's tru sfere. I dont beleve a word of it. Speakng of Rachel reminds me--did u hear anything about th Abby Bank lately, Ann?" "I herd it was shaky," ansrd Ann. "Wy?" "That is wat Rachel said. She was up here one day last week and said ther was som talk about it. Mathew felt real worrid. Al we hav saved is in that bank--evry penny. I wantd Mathew to put it in th Savings Bank in th first place, but old Mr. Abby was a gret frend of father's and he'd always bankd with him. Mathew said any bank with him at th hed of it was good enuf for anybody." "I think he has only been its nomnl hed for many years," said Ann. "He is a very old man; his nefews ar realy at th hed of th institution." "Wel, wen Rachel told us that, I wantd Mathew to draw our mony ryt out and he said he'd think of it. But Mr. Russell told him yestrday that th bank was al ryt." Ann had her good day in th companionship of th outdor world. She nevr forgot that day; it was so bryt and goldn and fair, so fre from shado and so lavish of blosm. Ann spent som of its rich ours in th orchrd; she went to th Dryad's Bubl and Willowmere and Violet Vale; she cald at th manse and had a satisfyng talk with Mrs. Allan; and finaly in th evenng she went with Mathew for th cows, thru Lovers' Lane to th bak pastur. Th woods wer al gloried thru with sunset and th warm splendr of it streamd down thru th hil gaps in th west. Mathew walkd sloly with bent hed; Ann, tal and erect, suitd her springng step to his. "U'v been workng too hard today, Mathew," she said reproachfuly. "Wy wont u take things esir?" "Wel now, I cant seem to," said Mathew, as he opend th yard gate to let th cows thru. "It's only that I'm getng old, Ann, and keep forgetng it. Wel, wel, I'v always workd pretty hard and I'd rathr drop in harness." "If I had been th boy u sent for," said Ann wistfuly, "I'd be able to help u so much now and spare u in a hundred ways. I cud find it in my hart to wish I had been, just for that." "Wel now, I'd rathr hav u than a dozn boys, Ann," said Mathew patng her hand. "Just mind u that-- rathr than a dozn boys. Wel now, I gess it wasnt a boy that took th Avery scolrship, was it? It was a girl--my girl--my girl that I'm proud of." He smiled his shy smile at her as he went into th yard. Ann took th memry of it with her wen she went to her room that nyt and sat for a long wile at her open windo, thinkng of th past and dreamng of th futur. Outside th Sno Queen was mistily wite in th moonshine; th frogs wer singng in th marsh beyond Orchrd Slope. Ann always remembrd th silvry, peceful buty and fragrant calm of that nyt. It was th last nyt befor soro tuchd her life; and no life is evr quite th same again wen once that cold, sanctifying tuch has been laid upon it. CHAPTR XXXVII Th Reapr Hos Name Is Deth "Mathew--Mathew--wat is th matr? Mathew, ar u sik?" It was Marilla ho spoke, alarm in evry jerky word. Ann came thru th hal, her hands ful of wite narcissus,--it was long befor Ann cud lov th syt or odor of wite narcissus again,--in time to hear her and to se Mathew standng in th porch dorway, a foldd paper in his hand, and his face stranjely drawn and gray. Ann dropd her flowrs and sprang across th kichn to him at th same moment as Marilla. They wer both too late; befor they cud reach him Mathew had falen across th threshold. "He's faintd," gaspd Marilla. "Ann, run for Martn-- quik, quik! He's at th barn." Martn, th hired man, ho had just drivn home from th post ofice, startd at once for th doctr, calng at Orchrd Slope on his way to send Mr. and Mrs. Barry over. Mrs. Lynde, ho was ther on an erand, came too. They found Ann and Marilla distractdly tryng to restor Mathew to conciusness. Mrs. Lynde pushd them jently aside, tryd his pulse, and then laid her ear over his hart. She lookd at ther anxius faces sorofuly and th tears came into her ys. "O, Marilla," she said gravely. "I dont think--we can do anything for him." "Mrs. Lynde, u dont think--u cant think Mathew is-- is--" Ann cud not say th dredful word; she turnd sik and palid. "Child, yes, I'm afraid of it. Look at his face. Wen u'v seen that look as ofn as I hav u'l no wat it means." Ann lookd at th stil face and ther beheld th seal of th Gret Presnce. Wen th doctr came he said that deth had been instntaneus and probbly painless, causd in al likelihood by som sudn shok. Th secret of th shok was discovrd to be in th paper Mathew had held and wich Martn had brot from th ofice that mornng. It containd an acount of th failur of th Abby Bank. Th news spred quikly thru Avonlea, and al day frends and neibrs throngd Green Gables and came and went on erands of kindness for th ded and livng. For th first time shy, quiet Mathew Cuthbert was a persn of centrl importnce; th wite majesty of deth had falen on him and set him apart as one crownd. Wen th calm nyt came softly down over Green Gables th old house was hushd and tranquil. In th parlr lay Mathew Cuthbert in his cofn, his long gray hair framing his placid face on wich ther was a litl kindly smile as if he but slept, dreamng plesnt dreams. Ther wer flowrs about him--sweet old-fashnd flowrs wich his mothr had plantd in th homested gardn in her bridal days and for wich Mathew had always had a secret, wordless lov. Ann had gathrd them and brot them to him, her anguishd, tearless ys burnng in her wite face. It was th last thing she cud do for him. Th Barrys and Mrs. Lynde stayd with them that nyt. Diana, going to th east gable, wher Ann was standng at her windo, said jently: "Ann dear, wud u like to hav me sleep with u tonyt?" "Thank u, Diana." Ann lookd ernestly into her friend's face. "I think u wont misundrstand me wen I say I want to be alone. I'm not afraid. I havnt been alone one minut since it hapnd-- and I want to be. I want to be quite silent and quiet and try to realize it. I cant realize it. Half th time it seems to me that Mathew cant be ded; and th othr half it seems as if he must hav been ded for a long time and I'v had this horibl dul ache evr since." Diana did not quite undrstand. Marilla's impassiond grief, brekng al th bounds of natrl reserv and lifelong habit in its stormy rush, she cud comprehend betr than Anne's tearless agny. But she went away kindly, leving Ann alone to keep her first vijl with soro. Ann hoped that th tears wud com in solitude. It seemd to her a teribl thing that she cud not shed a tear for Mathew, hom she had lovd so much and ho had been so kind to her, Mathew ho had walkd with her last evenng at sunset and was now lyng in th dim room belo with that awful pece on his brow. But no tears came at first, even wen she nelt by her windo in th darkns and prayd, lookng up to th stars beyond th hils--no tears, only th same horibl dul ache of misry that kept on aching until she fel asleep, worn out with th day's pain and exitemnt. In th nyt she awakend, with th stilness and th darkns about her, and th reclection of th day came over her like a wave of soro. She cud se Matthew's face smiling at her as he had smiled wen they partd at th gate that last evenng--she cud hear his voice sayng, "My girl--my girl that I'm proud of." Then th tears came and Ann wept her hart out. Marilla herd her and crept in to comfrt her. "Ther--ther--dont cry so, deari. It cant bring him bak. It--it--isnt ryt to cry so. I new that today, but I cudnt help it then. He'd always been such a good, kind brothr to me--but God nos best." "O, just let me cry, Marilla," sobd Ann. "Th tears dont hurt me like that ache did. Stay here for a litl wile with me and keep yr arm round me--so. I cudnt hav Diana stay, she's good and kind and sweet--but it's not her soro--she's outside of it and she cudnt com close enuf to my hart to help me. It's our soro-- yrs and mine. O, Marilla, wat wil we do without him?" "We'v got each othr, Ann. I dont no wat I'd do if u wernt here--if u'd nevr com. O, Ann, I no I'v been kind of strict and harsh with u maybe-- but u musnt think I didnt lov u as wel as Mathew did, for al that. I want to tel u now wen I can. It's nevr been esy for me to say things out of my hart, but at times like this it's esir. I lov u as dear as if u wer my own flesh and blod and u'v been my joy and comfrt evr since u came to Green Gables." Two days aftrwrds they carrid Mathew Cuthbert over his homested threshold and away from th fields he had tild and th orchrds he had lovd and th tres he had plantd; and then Avonlea setld bak to its usul placidity and even at Green Gables afairs slipd into ther old groov and work was don and dutis fulfild with regularity as befor, altho always with th aching sense of "loss in al familir things." Ann, new to grief, thot it almost sad that it cud be so--that they CUD go on in th old way without Mathew. She felt somthing like shame and remorse wen she discovrd that th sunrises behind th firs and th pale pink buds openng in th gardn gave her th old inrush of gladness wen she saw them--that Diana's visits wer plesnt to her and that Diana's merry words and ways moved her to laftr and smiles--that, in brief, th butiful world of blosm and lov and frendship had lost non of its powr to plese her fancy and thril her hart, that life stil cald to her with many insistnt voices. "It seems like disloylty to Mathew, somhow, to find plesur in these things now that he has gon," she said wistfuly to Mrs. Allan one evenng wen they wer togethr in th manse gardn. "I miss him so much--al th time-- and yet, Mrs. Allan, th world and life seem very butiful and intrestng to me for al. Today Diana said somthing funny and I found myself lafng. I thot wen it hapnd I cud nevr laf again. And it somhow seems as if I otnt to." "Wen Mathew was here he liked to hear u laf and he liked to no that u found plesur in th plesnt things around u," said Mrs. Allan jently. "He is just away now; and he likes to no it just th same. I am sure we shud not shut our harts against th healng influences that natur ofrs us. But I can undrstand yr feelng. I think we al experience th same thing. We resent th thot that anything can plese us wen somone we lov is no longr here to share th plesur with us, and we almost feel as if we wer unfaithful to our soro wen we find our intrest in life returng to us." "I was down to th graveyard to plant a rosebush on Matthew's grave this aftrnoon," said Ann dreamily. "I took a slip of th litl wite Scoch rosebush his mothr brot out from Scotland long ago; Mathew always liked those roses th best--they wer so smal and sweet on ther thorny stems. It made me feel glad that I cud plant it by his grave--as if I wer doing somthing that must plese him in taking it ther to be near him. I hope he has roses like them in hevn. Perhaps th sols of al those litl wite roses that he has lovd so many sumrs wer al ther to meet him. I must go home now. Marilla is al alone and she gets lonely at twilyt." "She wil be lonelir stil, I fear, wen u go away again to colej," said Mrs. Allan. Ann did not reply; she said good nyt and went sloly bak to green Gables. Marilla was sitng on th front dor-steps and Ann sat down beside her. Th dor was open behind them, held bak by a big pink conc shel with hints of se sunsets in its smooth inr convlutions. Ann gathrd som sprays of pale-yelo honysukl and put them in her hair. She liked th delicius hint of fragrance, as som aerial benediction, abov her evry time she moved. "Doctr Spencer was here wile u wer away," Marilla said. "He says that th specialist wil be in town tomoro and he insists that I must go in and hav my ys examnd. I supose I'd betr go and hav it over. I'l be mor than thankful if th man can giv me th ryt kind of glasses to suit my ys. U wont mind stayng here alone wile I'm away, wil u? Martn wil hav to drive me in and ther's ironng and baking to do." "I shal be al ryt. Diana wil com over for compny for me. I shal atend to th ironng and baking butifuly-- u neednt fear that I'l starch th hankrchiefs or flavor th cake with liniment." Marilla lafd. "Wat a girl u wer for making mistakes in them days, Ann. U wer always getng into scrapes. I did use to think u wer posesd. Do u mind th time u dyd yr hair?" "Yes, indeed. I shal nevr forget it," smiled Ann, tuchng th hevy braid of hair that was wound about her shapely hed. "I laf a litl now somtimes wen I think wat a worry my hair used to be to me--but I dont laf MUCH, because it was a very real trubl then. I did sufr teribly over my hair and my frekls. My frekls ar realy gon; and peple ar nice enuf to tel me my hair is aubrn now--al but Josi Pye. She informd me yestrday that she realy thot it was redr than evr, or at least my blak dress made it look redr, and she askd me if peple ho had red hair evr got used to havng it. Marilla, I'v almost decided to giv up tryng to like Josi Pye. I'v made wat I wud once hav cald a heroic efrt to like her, but Josi Pye wont BE liked." "Josi is a Pye," said Marilla sharply, "so she cant help being disagreeabl. I supose peple of that kind serv som useful purpos in society, but I must say I dont no wat it is any mor than I no th use of thisls. Is Josi going to teach?" "No, she is going bak to Queen's next year. So ar Moody Spurgeon and Charli Sloane. Jane and Ruby ar going to teach and they hav both got scools--Jane at Newbridge and Ruby at som place up west." "Gilbrt Blythe is going to teach too, isnt he?" "Yes"--briefly. "Wat a nice-lookng felo he is," said Marilla absntly. "I saw him in church last Sunday and he seemd so tal and manly. He looks a lot like his fathr did at th same aje. Jon Blythe was a nice boy. We used to be real good frends, he and I. Peple cald him my bau." Ann lookd up with swift intrest. "O, Marilla--and wat hapnd?--wy didnt u--" "We had a quarel. I wudnt forgiv him wen he askd me to. I ment to, aftr awile--but I was sulky and angry and I wantd to punish him first. He nevr came bak--th Blythes wer al myty independnt. But I always felt--rathr sorry. I'v always kind of wishd I'd forgivn him wen I had th chance." "So u'v had a bit of romance in yr life, too," said Ann softly. "Yes, I supose u myt cal it that. U wudnt think so to look at me, wud u? But u nevr can tel about peple from ther outsides. Evrybody has forgot about me and Jon. I'd forgotn myself. But it al came bak to me wen I saw Gilbrt last Sunday." CHAPTR XXXVIII Th Bend in th road Marilla went to town th next day and returnd in th evenng. Ann had gon over to Orchrd Slope with Diana and came bak to find Marilla in th kichn, sitng by th table with her hed leanng on her hand. Somthing in her dejectd atitude struk a chil to Anne's hart. She had nevr seen Marilla sit limply inert like that. "Ar u very tired, Marilla?" "Yes--no--I dont no," said Marilla wearily, lookng up. "I supose I am tired but I havnt thot about it. It's not that." "Did u se th oculist? Wat did he say?" askd Ann anxiusly. "Yes, I saw him. He examnd my ys. He says that if I giv up al readng and sewng entirely and any kind of work that strains th ys, and if I'm careful not to cry, and if I wer th glasses he's givn me he thinks my ys may not get any worse and my hedaches wil be cured. But if I dont he says I'l certnly be stone-blind in six months. Blind! Ann, just think of it!" For a minut Ann, aftr her first quik exclmation of dismay, was silent. It seemd to her that she cud NOT speak. Then she said bravely, but with a cach in her voice: "Marilla, DONT think of it. U no he has givn u hope. If u ar careful u wont lose yr syt altogethr; and if his glasses cure yr hedaches it wil be a gret thing." "I dont cal it much hope," said Marilla bitrly. "Wat am I to liv for if I cant red or sew or do anything like that? I myt as wel be blind--or ded. And as for cryng, I cant help that wen I get lonesm. But ther, it's no good talkng about it. If u'l get me a cup of te I'l be thankful. I'm about don out. Dont say anything about this to any one for a spel yet, anyway. I cant ber that folks shud com here to question and sympathize and talk about it." Wen Marilla had eatn her lunch Ann persuaded her to go to bed. Then Ann went herself to th east gable and sat down by her windo in th darkns alone with her tears and her heviness of hart. How sadly things had chanjed since she had sat ther th nyt aftr comng home! Then she had been ful of hope and joy and th futur had lookd rosy with promis. Ann felt as if she had livd years since then, but befor she went to bed ther was a smile on her lips and pece in her hart. She had lookd her duty curajusly in th face and found it a frend--as duty evr is wen we meet it frankly. One aftrnoon a few days later Marilla came sloly in from th front yard wher she had been talkng to a calr-- a man hom Ann new by syt as Sadler from Carmody. Ann wondrd wat he cud hav been sayng to bring that look to Marilla's face. "Wat did Mr. Sadler want, Marilla?" Marilla sat down by th windo and lookd at Ann. Ther wer tears in her ys in defiance of th oculist's prohibition and her voice broke as she said: "He herd that I was going to sel Green Gables and he wants to by it." "By it! By Green Gables?" Ann wondrd if she had herd aryt. "O, Marilla, u dont mean to sel Green Gables!" "Ann, I dont no wat else is to be don. I'v thot it al over. If my ys wer strong I cud stay here and make out to look aftr things and manaj, with a good hired man. But as it is I cant. I may lose my syt altogethr; and anyway I'l not be fit to run things. O, I nevr thot I'd liv to se th day wen I'd hav to sel my home. But things wud only go behind worse and worse al th time, til nobody wud want to by it. Evry cent of our mony went in that bank; and ther's som notes Mathew gave last fal to pay. Mrs. Lynde advises me to sel th farm and bord somwher--with her I supose. It wont bring much--it's smal and th bildngs ar old. But it'l be enuf for me to liv on I rekn. I'm thankful u'r provided for with that scolrship, Ann. I'm sorry u wont hav a home to com to in yr vacations, that's al, but I supose u'l manaj somhow." Marilla broke down and wept bitrly. "U musnt sel Green Gables," said Ann reslutely. "O, Ann, I wish I didnt hav to. But u can se for yrself. I cant stay here alone. I'd go crazy with trubl and loneliness. And my syt wud go--I no it wud." "U wont hav to stay here alone, Marilla. I'l be with u. I'm not going to Redmond." "Not going to Redmond!" Marilla liftd her worn face from her hands and lookd at Ann. "Wy, wat do u mean?" "Just wat I say. I'm not going to take th scolrship. I decided so th nyt aftr u came home from town. U surely dont think I cud leve u alone in yr trubl, Marilla, aftr al u'v don for me. I'v been thinkng and planng. Let me tel u my plans. Mr. Barry wants to rent th farm for next year. So u wont hav any bothr over that. And I'm going to teach. I'v aplyd for th scool here--but I dont expect to get it for I undrstand th trusts hav promisd it to Gilbrt Blythe. But I can hav th Carmody scool--Mr. Blair told me so last nyt at th stor. Of corse that wont be quite as nice or convenient as if I had th Avonlea scool. But I can bord home and drive myself over to Carmody and bak, in th warm wethr at least. And even in wintr I can com home Fridays. We'l keep a horse for that. O, I hav it al pland out, Marilla. And I'l red to u and keep u cheerd up. U sha'n't be dul or lonesm. And we'l be real cozy and happy here togethr, u and I." Marilla had lisnd like a womn in a dream. "O, Ann, I cud get on real wel if u wer here, I no. But I cant let u sacrifice yrself so for me. It wud be teribl." "Nonsnse!" Ann lafd merrily. "Ther is no sacrifice. Nothing cud be worse than givng up Green Gables--nothing cud hurt me mor. We must keep th dear old place. My mind is quite made up, Marilla. I'm NOT going to Redmond; and I AM going to stay here and teach. Dont u worry about me a bit." "But yr ambitions--and--" "I'm just as ambitius as evr. Only, I'v chanjed th object of my ambitions. I'm going to be a good teachr-- and I'm going to save yr ysyt. Besides, I mean to study at home here and take a litl colej corse al by myself. O, I'v dozns of plans, Marilla. I'v been thinkng them out for a week. I shal giv life here my best, and I beleve it wil giv its best to me in return. Wen I left Queen's my futur seemd to strech out befor me like a strait road. I thot I cud se along it for many a milestone. Now ther is a bend in it. I dont no wat lies around th bend, but I'm going to beleve that th best dos. It has a fasnation of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wondr how th road beyond it gos--wat ther is of green glory and soft, chekrd lyt and shados--wat new landscapes--wat new butis--wat curvs and hils and vallis furthr on." "I dont feel as if I ot to let u giv it up," said Marilla, referng to th scolrship. "But u cant prevent me. I'm sixteen and a half, `obstnat as a mule,' as Mrs. Lynde once told me," lafd Ann. "O, Marilla, dont u go pitying me. I dont like to be pitid, and ther is no need for it. I'm hart glad over th very thot of stayng at dear Green Gables. Nobody cud lov it as u and I do--so we must keep it." "U blesd girl!" said Marilla, yieldng. "I feel as if u'd givn me new life. I gess I ot to stik out and make u go to colej--but I no I cant, so I aint going to try. I'l make it up to u tho, Ann." Wen it became noised abrod in Avonlea that Ann Shirly had givn up th idea of going to colej and intendd to stay home and teach ther was a good deal of discussion over it. Most of th good folks, not noing about Marilla's ys, thot she was foolish. Mrs. Allan did not. She told Ann so in aproving words that brot tears of plesur to th girl's ys. Neithr did good Mrs. Lynde. She came up one evenng and found Ann and Marilla sitng at th front dor in th warm, sentd sumr dusk. They liked to sit ther wen th twilyt came down and th wite moths flew about in th gardn and th odor of mint fild th dewy air. Mrs. Rachel depositd her substantial persn upon th stone bench by th dor, behind wich grew a ro of tal pink and yelo hollyhoks, with a long breth of mingld weariness and relief. "I declare I'm getng glad to sit down. I'v been on my feet al day, and two hundred pounds is a good bit for two feet to carry round. It's a gret blesng not to be fat, Marilla. I hope u apreciate it. Wel, Ann, I hear u'v givn up yr notion of going to colej. I was real glad to hear it. U'v got as much education now as a womn can be comfrtbl with. I dont beleve in girls going to colej with th men and cramng ther heds ful of Latn and Greek and al that nonsnse." "But I'm going to study Latn and Greek just th same, Mrs. Lynde," said Ann lafng. "I'm going to take my Arts corse ryt here at Green Gables, and study everything that I wud at colej." Mrs. Lynde liftd her hands in holy horr. "Ann Shirly, u'l kil yrself." "Not a bit of it. I shal thrive on it. O, I'm not going to overdo things. As `Josia Allen's wife,' says, I shal be `mejum'. But I'l hav lots of spare time in th long wintr evenngs, and I'v no vocation for fancy work. I'm going to teach over at Carmody, u no." "I dont no it. I gess u'r going to teach ryt here in Avonlea. Th trusts hav decided to giv u th scool." "Mrs. Lynde!" cryd Ann, springng to her feet in her surprise. "Wy, I thot they had promisd it to Gilbrt Blythe!" "So they did. But as soon as Gilbrt herd that u had aplyd for it he went to them--they had a busness meetng at th scool last nyt, u no--and told them that he withdrew his aplication, and sujestd that they accept yrs. He said he was going to teach at Wite Sands. Of corse he new how much u wantd to stay with Marilla, and I must say I think it was real kind and thotful in him, that's wat. Real self-sacrificing, too, for he'l hav his bord to pay at Wite Sands, and evrybody nos he's got to ern his own way thru colej. So th trusts decided to take u. I was tikld to deth wen Tomas came home and told me." "I dont feel that I ot to take it," murmrd Ann. "I mean--I dont think I ot to let Gilbrt make such a sacrifice for--for me." "I gess u cant prevent him now. He's synd papers with th Wite Sands trusts. So it wudnt do him any good now if u wer to refuse. Of corse u'l take th scool. U'l get along al ryt, now that ther ar no Pyes going. Josi was th last of them, and a good thing she was, that's wat. Ther's been som Pye or othr going to Avonlea scool for th last twenty years, and I gess ther mission in life was to keep scool teachrs remindd that erth isnt ther home. Bless my hart! Wat dos al that winkng and blinkng at th Barry gable mean?" "Diana is signlng for me to go over," lafd Ann. "U no we keep up th old custm. Excuse me wile I run over and se wat she wants." Ann ran down th clover slope like a deer, and disapeard in th firry shados of th Hauntd Wood. Mrs. Lynde lookd aftr her induljntly. "Ther's a good deal of th child about her yet in som ways." "Ther's a good deal mor of th womn about her in othrs," retortd Marilla, with a momentry return of her old crispness. But crispness was no longr Marilla's distinguishng caractristic. As Mrs. Lynde told her Tomas that nyt. "Marilla Cuthbert has got MELO. That's wat." Ann went to th litl Avonlea graveyard th next evenng to put fresh flowrs on Matthew's grave and watr th Scoch rosebush. She lingrd ther until dusk, liking th pece and calm of th litl place, with its poplrs hos rusl was like lo, frendly speech, and its wisprng grasses groing at wil among th graves. Wen she finaly left it and walkd down th long hil that sloped to th Lake of Shining Watrs it was past sunset and al Avonlea lay befor her in a dreamlike afterlight-- "a haunt of ancient pece." Ther was a freshness in th air as of a wind that had blown over hony-sweet fields of clover. Home lyts twinkld out here and ther among th homested tres. Beyond lay th se, misty and purpl, with its hauntng, uncesing murmr. Th west was a glory of soft mingld hues, and th pond reflectd them al in stil softr shadings. Th buty of it al thrild Anne's hart, and she gratefuly opend th gates of her sol to it. "Dear old world," she murmrd, "u ar very lovly, and I am glad to be alive in u." Halfway down th hil a tal lad came wislng out of a gate befor th Blythe homested. It was Gilbrt, and th wisl died on his lips as he recognized Ann. He liftd his cap curteusly, but he wud hav pasd on in silence, if Ann had not stopd and held out her hand. "Gilbrt," she said, with scarlet cheeks, "I want to thank u for givng up th scool for me. It was very good of u--and I want u to no that I apreciate it." Gilbrt took th ofrd hand eagrly. "It wasnt particulrly good of me at al, Ann. I was plesed to be able to do u som smal service. Ar we going to be frends aftr this? Hav u realy forgivn me my old falt?" Ann lafd and tryd unsuccesfuly to withdraw her hand. "I forgave u that day by th pond landng, altho I didnt no it. Wat a stubrn litl goose I was. I'v been--I may as wel make a complete confession--I'v been sorry evr since." "We ar going to be th best of frends," said Gilbrt, jubilantly. "We wer born to be good frends, Ann. U'v thwartd destny enuf. I no we can help each othr in many ways. U ar going to keep up yr studis, arnt u? So am I. Com, I'm going to walk home with u." Marilla lookd curiusly at Ann wen th latr entrd th kichn. "Ho was that came up th lane with u, Ann?" "Gilbrt Blythe," ansrd Ann, vexd to find herself blushng. "I met him on Barry's hil." "I didnt think u and Gilbrt Blythe wer such good frends that u'd stand for half an our at th gate talkng to him," said Marilla with a dry smile. "We havnt been--we'v been good enmis. But we hav decided that it wil be much mor sensbl to be good frends in th futur. Wer we realy ther half an our? It seemd just a few minuts. But, u se, we hav five years' lost convrsations to cach up with, Marilla." Ann sat long at her windo that nyt companioned by a glad content. Th wind purd softly in th cherry bous, and th mint breths came up to her. Th stars twinkld over th pointd firs in th holo and Diana's lyt gleamd thru th old gap. Anne's horizons had closed in since th nyt she had sat ther aftr comng home from Queen's; but if th path set befor her feet was to be naro she new that flowrs of quiet happiness wud bloom along it. Th joy of sincere work and worthy aspration and conjenial frendship wer to be hers; nothing cud rob her of her birthryt of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And ther was always th bend in th road! "`God's in his hevn, all's ryt with th world,'" wisprd Ann softly. *** End of th Project Gutenberg Edition of Ann of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomry