said Diana practically.

"Perhaps it won't wash off. First I dye my hair; then I dye my nose.
Marilla cut my hair off when I dyed it but that remedy would hardly be
practicable in this case. Well, this is another punishment for vanity
and I suppose I deserve it . . . though there's not much comfort in THAT.
It is really almost enough to make one believe in ill-luck, though Mrs.
Lynde says there is no such thing, because everything is foreordained."

Fortunately the dye washed off easily and Anne, somewhat consoled,
betook herself to the east gable while Diana ran home. Presently Anne
came down again, clothed and in her right mind. The muslin dress she had
fondly hoped to wear was bobbing merrily about on the line outside, so
she was forced to content herself with her black lawn. She had the fire
on and the tea steeping when Diana returned; the latter wore HER muslin,
at least, and carried a covered platter in her hand.

"Mother sent you this," she said, lifting the cover and displaying a
nicely carved and jointed chicken to Anne's greatful eyes.

The chicken was supplemented by light new bread, excellent butter and
cheese, Marilla's fruit cake and a dish of preserved plums, floating
in their golden syrup as in congealed summer sunshine. There was a big
bowlful of pink-and-white asters also, by way of decoration; yet the
spread seemed very meager beside the elaborate one formerly prepared for
Mrs. Morgan.

Anne's hungry guests, however, did not seem to think anything was
lacking and they ate the simple viands with apparent enjoyment. But
after the first few moments Anne thought no more of what was or was
not on her bill of fare. Mrs. Morgan's appearance might be somewhat
disappointing, as even her loyal worshippers had been forced to admit to
each other; but she proved to be a delightful conversationalist. She had
traveled extensively and was an excellent storyteller. She had seen
much of men and women, and crystalized her experiences into witty little
sentences and epigrams which made her hearers feel as if they were
listening to one of the people in clever books. But under all her
sparkle there was a strongly felt undercurrent of true, womanly sympathy
and kindheartedness which won affection as easily as her brilliancy
won admiration. Nor did she monopolize the conversation. She could draw
others out as skillfully and fully as she could talk herself, and Anne
and Diana found themselves chattering freely to her. Mrs