d such spooky things it was just as well
not to be able to fancy there was anything behind you.

"I'm afraid the Improvement Society will go down when you and Gilbert
are both gone," she remarked dolefully.

"Not a bit of fear of it," said Anne briskly, coming back from dreamland
to the affairs of practical life. "It is too firmly established for
that, especially since the older people are becoming so enthusiastic
about it. Look what they are doing this summer for their lawns and
lanes. Besides, I'll be watching for hints at Redmond and I'll write a
paper for it next winter and send it over. Don't take such a gloomy view
of things, Diana. And don't grudge me my little hour of gladness and
jubilation now. Later on, when I have to go away, I'll feel anything but
glad."

"It's all right for you to be glad . . . you're going to college and
you'll have a jolly time and make heaps of lovely new friends."

"I hope I shall make new friends," said Anne thoughtfully. "The
possibilities of making new friends help to make life very fascinating.
But no matter how many friends I make they'll never be as dear to me as
the old ones . . . especially a certain girl with black eyes and dimples.
Can you guess who she is, Diana?"

"But there'll be so many clever girls at Redmond," sighed Diana, "and
I'm only a stupid little country girl who says 'I seen' sometimes. . .
though I really know better when I stop to think. Well, of course these
past two years have really been too pleasant to last. I know SOMEBODY
who is glad you are going to Redmond anyhow. Anne, I'm going to ask
you a question . . . a serious question. Don't be vexed and do answer
seriously. Do you care anything for Gilbert?"

"Ever so much as a friend and not a bit in the way you mean," said Anne
calmly and decidedly; she also thought she was speaking sincerely.

Diana sighed. She wished, somehow, that Anne had answered differently.

"Don't you mean EVER to be married, Anne?"

"Perhaps . . . some day . . . when I meet the right one," said Anne,
smiling dreamily up at the moonlight.

"But how can you be sure when you do meet the right one?" persisted
Diana.

"Oh, I should know him . . . SOMETHING would tell me. You know what my
ideal is, Diana."

"But people's ideals change sometimes."

"Mine won't. And I COULDN'T care for any man who didn't fulfill it."

"What if you never meet him?"

"Then I shall die an old maid," was the cheerful response. "I daresay it
i