were only two that mattered. The rest were all too young and too
poor. I must marry a rich man, you know."

"Why must you?"
"Honey, you couldn't imagine ME being a poor man's wife, could you?

I can't do a single useful thing, and I am VERY extravagant. Oh, no,
my husband must have heaps of money. So that narrowed them down to two.

But I couldn't decide between two any easier than between two hundred.
I knew perfectly well that whichever one I chose I'd regret all my life

that I hadn't married the other."
"Didn't you -- love -- either of them?" asked Anne, a little hesitatingly.

It was not easy for her to speak to a stranger of the great mystery and
transformation of life.

"Goodness, no. _I_ couldn't love anybody. It isn't in me.
Besides I wouldn't want to. Being in love makes you a perfect

slave, _I_ think. And it would give a man such power to hurt you.
I'd be afraid. No, no, Alec and Alonzo are two dear boys, and I like

them both so much that I really don't know which I like the better.
That is the trouble. Alec is the best looking, of course, and I

simply couldn't marry a man who wasn't handsome. He is good-tempered
too, and has lovely, curly, black hair. He's rather too perfect --

I don't believe I'd like a perfect husband -- somebody I could never
find fault with."

"Then why not marry Alonzo?" asked Priscilla gravely.
"Think of marrying a name like Alonzo!" said Phil dolefully.

"I don't believe I could endure it. But he has a classic nose,
and it WOULD be a comfort to have a nose in the family that could

be depended on. I can't depend on mine. So far, it takes after the
Gordon pattern, but I'm so afraid it will develop Byrne tendencies

as I grow older. I examine it every day anxiously to make sure it's
still Gordon. Mother was a Byrne and has the Byrne nose in the

Byrnest degree. Wait till you see it. I adore nice noses.
Your nose is awfully nice, Anne Shirley. Alonzo's nose nearly

turned the balance in his favor. But ALONZO! No, I couldn't decide.
If I could have done as I did with the hats -- stood them both up

together, shut my eyes, and jabbed with a hatpin -- it would have
been quite easy."

"What did Alec and Alonzo feel like when you came away?" queried Priscilla.
"Oh, they still have hope. I told them they'd have to wait

till I could make up my mind. They're quite willing to wait.
They both worship me, you know. Meanwhile, I intend to have

a good time. I expect I shall have heaps of beaux at Redmond.
I can't be happy unless I have, you know. But don't you think

the freshmen are fearfully homely?
I saw only one really handsome fellow among them. He went away

before you came. I heard his chum call him Gilbert. His chum
had eyes that stuck out THAT FAR. But you're not going yet, girls?

Don't go yet."
"I think we must," said Anne, rather coldly. "It's getting late,

and I've some work to do."
"But you'll both come to see me, won't you?" asked Philippa,

getting up and putting an arm around each. "And let me come to
see you. I want to be chummy with you. I've taken such a fancy

to you both. And I haven't quite disgusted you with my frivolity,
have I?"

"Not quite," laughed Anne, responding to Phil's squeeze, with a
return of cordiality.

"Because I'm not half so silly as I seem on the surface, you
know. You just accept Philippa Gordon, as the Lord made her,

with all her faults, and I believe you'll come to like her.
Isn't this graveyard a sweet place? I'd love to be buried here.

Here's a grave I didn't see before -- this one in the iron
railing -- oh, girls, look, see -- the stone says it's the grave

of a middy who was killed in the fight between the Shannon and
the Chesapeake. Just fancy!"

Anne paused by the railing and looked at the worn stone, her pulses
thrilling with sudden excitement. The old graveyard, with its

over-arching trees and long aisles of shadows, faded from her sight.
Instead, she saw the Kingsport Harbor of nearly a century agone.

Out of the mist came slowly a great frigate, brilliant with
"the meteor flag of England." Behind her was another, with

a still, heroic form, wrapped in his own starry flag, lying on
the quarter deck -- the gallant Lawrence. Time's finger had

turned back his pages, and that was the Shannon sailing
triumphant up the bay with the Chesapeake as her prize.

"Come back, Anne Shirley -- come back," laughed Philippa, pulling
her arm. "You're a hundred years away from us. Come back."

Anne came back with a sigh; her eyes were shining softly.
"I've always loved that old story," she said, "and although the

English won that victory, I think it was because of the brave,
defeated commander I love it. This grave seems to bring it so

near and make it so real. This poor little middy was only
eighteen. He `died of desperate wounds received in gallant

action' -- so reads his epitaph. It is such as a soldier might
wish for."

Before she turned away, Anne unpinned the little cluster of
purple pansies she wore and dropped it softly on the grave of the

boy who had perished in the great sea-duel.
"Well, what do you think of our new friend?" asked Priscilla,

when Phil had left them.
"I like her. There is something very lovable about her, in spite

of all her nonsense. I believe, as she says herself, that she
isn't half as silly as she sounds. She's a dear, kissable baby

-- and I don't know that she'll ever really grow up."
"I like her, too," said Priscilla, decidedly. "She talks as much

about boys as Ruby Gillis does. But it always enrages or sickens
me to hear Ruby, whereas I just wanted to laugh good-naturedly at

Phil. Now, what is the why of that?"
"There is a difference," said Anne meditatively. "I think it's

because Ruby is really so CONSCIOUS of boys. She plays at love
and love-making. Besides, you feel, when she is boasting of her

beaux that she is doing it to rub it well into you that you
haven't half so many. Now, when Phil talks of her beaux it

sounds as if she was just speaking of chums. She really looks
upon boys as good comrades, and she is pleased when she has

dozens of them tagging round, simply because she likes to be
popular and to be thought popular. Even Alex and Alonzo -- I'll

never be able to think of those two names separately after this
-- are to her just two playfellows who want her to play with them

all their lives. I'm glad we met her, and I'm glad we went to
Old St. John's. I believe I've put forth a tiny soul-root into

Kingsport soil this afternoon. I hope so. I hate to feel transplanted."
Chapter V

Letters from Home
For the next three weeks Anne and Priscilla continued to feel as

strangers in a strange land. Then, suddenly, everything seemed
to fall into focus -- Redmond, professors, classes, students,

studies, social doings. Life became homogeneous again, instead
of being made up of detached fragments. The Freshmen, instead of

being a collection of unrelated individuals, found themselves a
class, with a class spirit, a class yell, class interests, class

antipathies and class ambitions. They won the day in the annual
"Arts Rush" against the Sophomores, and thereby gained the

respect of all the classes, and an enormous, confidence-giving
opinion of themselves. For three years the Sophomores had won in

the "rush"; that the victory of this year perched upon the
Freshmen's banner was attributed to the strategic generalship of