is to be married
tonight. Three weddings for you in one summer, Anne--Phil's, Alice's,
and Jane's. I'll never forgive Jane for not inviting me to her wedding."

"You really can't blame her when you think of the tremendous Andrews
connection who had to be invited. The house could hardly hold them all.
I was only bidden by grace of being Jane's old chum--at least on Jane's
part. I think Mrs. Harmon's motive for inviting me was to let me see
Jane's surpassing gorgeousness."

"Is it true that she wore so many diamonds that you couldn't tell where
the diamonds left off and Jane began?"

Anne laughed.

"She certainly wore a good many. What with all the diamonds and white
satin and tulle and lace and roses and orange blossoms, prim little
Jane was almost lost to sight. But she was VERY happy, and so was Mr.
Inglis--and so was Mrs. Harmon."

"Is that the dress you're going to wear tonight?" asked Gilbert, looking
down at the fluffs and frills.

"Yes. Isn't it pretty? And I shall wear starflowers in my hair. The
Haunted Wood is full of them this summer."

Gilbert had a sudden vision of Anne, arrayed in a frilly green gown,
with the virginal curves of arms and throat slipping out of it, and
white stars shining against the coils of her ruddy hair. The vision made
him catch his breath. But he turned lightly away.

"Well, I'll be up tomorrow. Hope you'll have a nice time tonight."

Anne looked after him as he strode away, and sighed. Gilbert was
friendly--very friendly--far too friendly. He had come quite often to
Green Gables after his recovery, and something of their old comradeship
had returned. But Anne no longer found it satisfying. The rose of love
made the blossom of friendship pale and scentless by contrast. And
Anne had again begun to doubt if Gilbert now felt anything for her but
friendship. In the common light of common day her radiant certainty of
that rapt morning had faded. She was haunted by a miserable fear that
her mistake could never be rectified. It was quite likely that it was
Christine whom Gilbert loved after all. Perhaps he was even engaged
to her. Anne tried to put all unsettling hopes out of her heart, and
reconcile herself to a future where work and ambition must take the
place of love. She could do good, if not noble, work as a teacher; and
the success her little sketches were beginning to meet with in certain
editorial sanctums augured well for her budding literary dreams.
But--but--Anne picked