e
been DYING to know. I saw you at Redmond this morning. Say, wasn't it
AWFUL there? For the time I wished I had stayed home and got married."

Anne and Priscilla both broke into unconstrained laughter at this
unexpected conclusion. The brown-eyed girl laughed, too.

"I really did. I COULD have, you know. Come, let's all sit down on this
gravestone and get acquainted. It won't be hard. I know we're going
to adore each other--I knew it as soon as I saw you at Redmond this
morning. I wanted so much to go right over and hug you both."

"Why didn't you?" asked Priscilla.

"Because I simply couldn't make up my mind to do it. I never can make
up my mind about anything myself--I'm always afflicted with indecision.
Just as soon as I decide to do something I feel in my bones that another
course would be the correct one. It's a dreadful misfortune, but I was
born that way, and there is no use in blaming me for it, as some people
do. So I couldn't make up my mind to go and speak to you, much as I
wanted to."

"We thought you were too shy," said Anne.

"No, no, dear. Shyness isn't among the many failings--or virtues--of
Philippa Gordon--Phil for short. Do call me Phil right off. Now, what
are your handles?"

"She's Priscilla Grant," said Anne, pointing.

"And SHE'S Anne Shirley," said Priscilla, pointing in turn.

"And we're from the Island," said both together.

"I hail from Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia," said Philippa.

"Bolingbroke!" exclaimed Anne. "Why, that is where I was born."

"Do you really mean it? Why, that makes you a Bluenose after all."

"No, it doesn't," retorted Anne. "Wasn't it Dan O'Connell who said that
if a man was born in a stable it didn't make him a horse? I'm Island to
the core."

"Well, I'm glad you were born in Bolingbroke anyway. It makes us kind of
neighbors, doesn't it? And I like that, because when I tell you secrets
it won't be as if I were telling them to a stranger. I have to tell
them. I can't keep secrets--it's no use to try. That's my worst
failing--that, and indecision, as aforesaid. Would you believe it?--it
took me half an hour to decide which hat to wear when I was coming
here--HERE, to a graveyard! At first I inclined to my brown one with
the feather; but as soon as I put it on I thought this pink one with
the floppy brim would be more becoming. When I got IT pinned in place
I liked the brown one better. At last I put them close together on the
bed, shut my eyes, and jabbed wit