why.

Only one disagreeable incident marred that winter. Charlie Sloane,
sitting bolt upright on Miss Ada's most dearly beloved cushion, asked
Anne one night if she would promise "to become Mrs. Charlie Sloane some
day." Coming after Billy Andrews' proxy effort, this was not quite the
shock to Anne's romantic sensibilities that it would otherwise have
been; but it was certainly another heart-rending disillusion. She was
angry, too, for she felt that she had never given Charlie the slightest
encouragement to suppose such a thing possible. But what could you
expect of a Sloane, as Mrs. Rachel Lynde would ask scornfully? Charlie's
whole attitude, tone, air, words, fairly reeked with Sloanishness. "He
was conferring a great honor--no doubt whatever about that. And when
Anne, utterly insensible to the honor, refused him, as delicately and
considerately as she could--for even a Sloane had feelings which ought
not to be unduly lacerated--Sloanishness still further betrayed itself.
Charlie certainly did not take his dismissal as Anne's imaginary
rejected suitors did. Instead, he became angry, and showed it; he said
two or three quite nasty things; Anne's temper flashed up mutinously and
she retorted with a cutting little speech whose keenness pierced even
Charlie's protective Sloanishness and reached the quick; he caught up
his hat and flung himself out of the house with a very red face; Anne
rushed upstairs, falling twice over Miss Ada's cushions on the way,
and threw herself on her bed, in tears of humiliation and rage. Had
she actually stooped to quarrel with a Sloane? Was it possible anything
Charlie Sloane could say had power to make her angry? Oh, this was
degradation, indeed--worse even than being the rival of Nettie Blewett!

"I wish I need never see the horrible creature again," she sobbed
vindictively into her pillows.

She could not avoid seeing him again, but the outraged Charlie took care
that it should not be at very close quarters. Miss Ada's cushions were
henceforth safe from his depredations, and when he met Anne on the
street, or in Redmond's halls, his bow was icy in the extreme. Relations
between these two old schoolmates continued to be thus strained for
nearly a year! Then Charlie transferred his blighted affections to a
round, rosy, snub-nosed, blue-eyed, little Sophomore who appreciated
them as they deserved, whereupon he forgave Anne and condescended to be
civil to her again; in a patronizing manner i