that moment, but I doubt it. Every snip
of the scissors, as rose and peony and bluebell fell, seemed to chirp,
"Mrs. Morgan is coming today." Anne wondered how Mr. Harrison COULD go
on placidly mowing hay in the field across the lane, just as if nothing
were going to happen.

The parlor at Green Gables was a rather severe and gloomy apartment,
with rigid horsehair furniture, stiff lace curtains, and white
antimacassars that were always laid at a perfectly correct angle, except
at such times as they clung to unfortunate people's buttons. Even Anne
had never been able to infuse much grace into it, for Marilla would not
permit any alterations. But it is wonderful what flowers can accomplish
if you give them a fair chance; when Anne and Diana finished with the
room you would not have recognized it.

A great blue bowlful of snowballs overflowed on the polished table. The
shining black mantelpiece was heaped with roses and ferns. Every shelf
of the what-not held a sheaf of bluebells; the dark corners on either
side of the grate were lighted up with jars full of glowing crimson
peonies, and the grate itself was aflame with yellow poppies. All
this splendor and color, mingled with the sunshine falling through the
honeysuckle vines at the windows in a leafy riot of dancing shadows over
walls and floor, made of the usually dismal little room the veritable
"bower" of Anne's imagination, and even extorted a tribute of admiration
from Marilla, who came in to criticize and remained to praise.

"Now, we must set the table," said Anne, in the tone of a priestess
about to perform some sacred rite in honor of a divinity. "We'll have a
big vaseful of wild roses in the center and one single rose in front
of everybody's plate--and a special bouquet of rosebuds only by Mrs.
Morgan's--an allusion to 'The Rosebud Garden' you know."

The table was set in the sitting room, with Marilla's finest linen and
the best china, glass, and silver. You may be perfectly certain that
every article placed on it was polished or scoured to the highest
possible perfection of gloss and glitter.

Then the girls tripped out to the kitchen, which was filled with
appetizing odors emanating from the oven, where the chickens were
already sizzling splendidly. Anne prepared the potatoes and Diana got
the peas and beans ready. Then, while Diana shut herself into the pantry
to compound the lettuce salad, Anne, whose cheeks were already beginning
to glow crimson, as