air. He's rather too perfect--I don't believe I'd like a perfect
husband--somebody I could never find fault with."

"Then why not marry Alonzo?" asked Priscilla gravely.

"Think of marrying a name like Alonzo!" said Phil dolefully. "I don't
believe I could endure it. But he has a classic nose, and it WOULD be a
comfort to have a nose in the family that could be depended on. I can't
depend on mine. So far, it takes after the Gordon pattern, but I'm so
afraid it will develop Byrne tendencies as I grow older. I examine it
every day anxiously to make sure it's still Gordon. Mother was a Byrne
and has the Byrne nose in the Byrnest degree. Wait till you see it. I
adore nice noses. Your nose is awfully nice, Anne Shirley. Alonzo's
nose nearly turned the balance in his favor. But ALONZO! No, I couldn't
decide. If I could have done as I did with the hats--stood them both
up together, shut my eyes, and jabbed with a hatpin--it would have been
quite easy."

"What did Alec and Alonzo feel like when you came away?" queried
Priscilla.

"Oh, they still have hope. I told them they'd have to wait till I could
make up my mind. They're quite willing to wait. They both worship me,
you know. Meanwhile, I intend to have a good time. I expect I shall have
heaps of beaux at Redmond. I can't be happy unless I have, you know. But
don't you think the freshmen are fearfully homely? I saw only one really
handsome fellow among them. He went away before you came. I heard his
chum call him Gilbert. His chum had eyes that stuck out THAT FAR. But
you're not going yet, girls? Don't go yet."

"I think we must," said Anne, rather coldly. "It's getting late, and
I've some work to do."

"But you'll both come to see me, won't you?" asked Philippa, getting up
and putting an arm around each. "And let me come to see you. I want to
be chummy with you. I've taken such a fancy to you both. And I haven't
quite disgusted you with my frivolity, have I?"

"Not quite," laughed Anne, responding to Phil's squeeze, with a return
of cordiality.

"Because I'm not half so silly as I seem on the surface, you know. You
just accept Philippa Gordon, as the Lord made her, with all her faults,
and I believe you'll come to like her. Isn't this graveyard a sweet
place? I'd love to be buried here. Here's a grave I didn't see
before--this one in the iron railing--oh, girls, look, see--the stone
says it's the grave of a middy who was killed in the fight between the
Shannon and