on't come up to his standard,"
protested Jane.

"I'd rather have my pupils love me and look back to me in after years as
a real helper than be on the roll of honor," asserted Anne decidedly.

"Wouldn't you punish children at all, when they misbehaved?" asked
Gilbert.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I shall have to, although I know I'll hate to do it.
But you can keep them in at recess or stand them on the floor or give
them lines to write."

"I suppose you won't punish the girls by making them sit with the boys?"
said Jane slyly.

Gilbert and Anne looked at each other and smiled rather foolishly. Once
upon a time, Anne had been made to sit with Gilbert for punishment and
sad and bitter had been the consequences thereof.

"Well, time will tell which is the best way," said Jane philosophically
as they parted.

Anne went back to Green Gables by way of Birch Path, shadowy, rustling,
fern-scented, through Violet Vale and past Willowmere, where dark and
light kissed each other under the firs, and down through Lover's Lane
. . . spots she and Diana had so named long ago. She walked slowly,
enjoying the sweetness of wood and field and the starry summer twilight,
and thinking soberly about the new duties she was to take up on the
morrow. When she reached the yard at Green Gables Mrs. Lynde's loud,
decided tones floated out through the open kitchen window.

"Mrs. Lynde has come up to give me good advice about tomorrow," thought
Anne with a grimace, "but I don't believe I'll go in. Her advice is
much like pepper, I think . . . excellent in small quantities but rather
scorching in her doses. I'll run over and have a chat with Mr. Harrison
instead."

This was not the first time Anne had run over and chatted with Mr.
Harrison since the notable affair of the Jersey cow. She had been
there several evenings and Mr. Harrison and she were very good friends,
although there were times and seasons when Anne found the outspokenness
on which he prided himself rather trying. Ginger still continued to
regard her with suspicion, and never failed to greet her sarcastically
as "redheaded snippet." Mr. Harrison had tried vainly to break him
of the habit by jumping excitedly up whenever he saw Anne coming and
exclaiming,

"Bless my soul, here's that pretty little girl again," or something
equally flattering. But Ginger saw through the scheme and scorned it.
Anne was never to know how many compliments Mr. Harrison paid her behind
her back. He certa