e had once said.

Most of the little crowd were paired off after a fashion. Jem walked
with Faith Meredith, of course, and Jerry Meredith with Nan Blythe. Di
and Walter were together, deep in confidential conversation which Rilla
envied.

Carl Meredith was walking with Miranda Pryor, more to torment Joe
Milgrave than for any other reason. Joe was known to have a strong
hankering for the said Miranda, which shyness prevented him from
indulging on all occasions. Joe might summon enough courage to amble up
beside Miranda if the night were dark, but here, in this moonlit dusk,
he simply could not do it. So he trailed along after the procession and
thought things not lawful to be uttered of Carl Meredith. Miranda was
the daughter of Whiskers-on-the-moon; she did not share her father's
unpopularity but she was not much run after, being a pale, neutral
little creature, somewhat addicted to nervous giggling. She had silvery
blonde hair and her eyes were big china blue orbs that looked as if she
had been badly frightened when she was little and had never got over
it. She would much rather have walked with Joe than with Carl, with
whom she did not feel in the least at home. Yet it was something of an
honour, too, to have a college boy beside her, and a son of the manse
at that.

Shirley Blythe was with Una Meredith and both were rather silent
because such was their nature. Shirley was a lad of sixteen, sedate,
sensible, thoughtful, full of a quiet humour. He was Susan's "little
brown boy" yet, with his brown hair, brown eyes, and clear brown skin.
He liked to walk with Una Meredith because she never tried to make him
talk or badgered him with chatter. Una was as sweet and shy as she had
been in the Rainbow Valley days, and her large, dark-blue eyes were as
dreamy and wistful. She had a secret, carefully-hidden fancy for Walter
Blythe that nobody but Rilla ever suspected. Rilla sympathized with it
and wished Walter would return it. She liked Una better than Faith,
whose beauty and aplomb rather overshadowed other girls--and Rilla did
not enjoy being overshadowed.

But just now she was very happy. It was so delightful to be tripping
with her friends down that dark, gleaming road sprinkled with its
little spruces and firs, whose balsam made all the air resinous around
them. Meadows of sunset afterlight were behind the westerning hills.
Before them was the shining harbour. A bell was ringing in the little
church over-harbour and