Anne found the two of them there when she came out
of the stone house, and something in Miss Lavendar’s
face made her hate to disturb them.
“I’m afraid we must go, Paul, if we want
to get home before dark. Miss Lavendar, I’m
going to invite myself to Echo Lodge for a whole week
pretty soon.”
“If you come for a week I’ll keep you
for two,” threatened Miss Lavendar.
The Prince Comes Back to the Enchanted Palace
The last day of school came and went. A triumphant
“semi-annual examination” was held and
Anne’s pupils acquitted themselves splendidly.
At the close they gave her an address and a writing
desk. All the girls and ladies present cried,
and some of the boys had it cast up to them later
on that they cried too, although they always denied
it.
Mrs. Harmon Andrews, Mrs. Peter Sloane, and Mrs. William
Bell walked home together and talked things over.
“I do think it is such a pity Anne is leaving
when the children seem so much attached to her,”
sighed Mrs. Peter Sloane, who had a habit of sighing
over everything and even finished off her jokes that
way. “To be sure,” she added hastily,
“we all know we’ll have a good teacher
next year too.”
“Jane will do her duty, I’ve no doubt,”
said Mrs. Andrews rather stiffly. “I don’t
suppose she’ll tell the children quite so many
fairy tales or spend so much time roaming about the
woods with them. But she has her name on the
Inspector’s Roll of Honor and the Newbridge people
are in a terrible state over her leaving.”
“I’m real glad Anne is going to college,”
said Mrs. Bell. “She has always wanted
it and it will be a splendid thing for her.”
“Well, I don’t know.” Mrs.
Andrews was determined not to agree fully with anybody
that day. “I don’t see that Anne needs
any more education. She’ll probably be
marrying Gilbert Blythe, if his infatuation for her
lasts till he gets through college, and what good will
Latin and Greek do her then? If they taught you
at college how to manage a man there might be some
sense in her going.”
Mrs. Harmon Andrews, so Avonlea gossip whispered,
had never learned how to manage her “man,”
and as a result the Andrews household was not exactly
a model of domestic happiness.
“I see that the Charlottetown call to Mr. Allan
is up before the Presbytery,” said Mrs. Bell.
“That means we’ll be losing him soon, I
suppose.”
“They’re not going before September,”
said Mrs. Sloane. “It will be a great loss
to the community . . . though I always did think that
Mrs. Allan dressed rather too gay for a minister’s
wife. But we are none of us perfect. Did
you notice how neat and snug Mr. Harrison looked today?
I never saw such a changed man. He goes to church
every Sunday and has subscribed to the salary.”
“Hasn’t that Paul Irving grown to be a
big boy?” said Mrs. Andrews. “He
was such a mite for his age when he came here.
I declare I hardly knew him today. He’s
getting to look a lot like his father.”
