d do it; that was what came of
adopting orphans from goodness knew where, with goodness knew what
kind of parents. Even Mrs. Rachel Lynde was darkly dubious about the
propriety of writing fiction, though she was almost reconciled to it by
that twenty-five dollar check.

"It is perfectly amazing, the price they pay for such lies, that's
what," she said, half-proudly, half-severely.

All things considered, it was a relief when going-away time came. And
it was very jolly to be back at Redmond, a wise, experienced Soph with
hosts of friends to greet on the merry opening day. Pris and Stella and
Gilbert were there, Charlie Sloane, looking more important than ever a
Sophomore looked before, Phil, with the Alec-and-Alonzo question still
unsettled, and Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. Moody Spurgeon had been
teaching school ever since leaving Queen's, but his mother had concluded
it was high time he gave it up and turned his attention to learning
how to be a minister. Poor Moody Spurgeon fell on hard luck at the very
beginning of his college career. Half a dozen ruthless Sophs, who were
among his fellow-boarders, swooped down upon him one night and shaved
half of his head. In this guise the luckless Moody Spurgeon had to go
about until his hair grew again. He told Anne bitterly that there were
times when he had his doubts as to whether he was really called to be a
minister.

Aunt Jamesina did not come until the girls had Patty's Place ready for
her. Miss Patty had sent the key to Anne, with a letter in which she
said Gog and Magog were packed in a box under the spare-room bed, but
might be taken out when wanted; in a postscript she added that she hoped
the girls would be careful about putting up pictures. The living room
had been newly papered five years before and she and Miss Maria did
not want any more holes made in that new paper than was absolutely
necessary. For the rest she trusted everything to Anne.

How those girls enjoyed putting their nest in order! As Phil said, it
was almost as good as getting married. You had the fun of homemaking
without the bother of a husband. All brought something with them to
adorn or make comfortable the little house. Pris and Phil and Stella had
knick-knacks and pictures galore, which latter they proceeded to hang
according to taste, in reckless disregard of Miss Patty's new paper.

"We'll putty the holes up when we leave, dear--she'll never know," they
said to protesting Anne.

Diana had