going away," said Marilla.
"I don't think I was crying because I was really so very fond of

him," reflected Anne. "I just cried because all the others did.
It was Ruby Gillis started it. Ruby Gillis has always declared

she hated Mr. Phillips, but just as soon as he got up to make
his farewell speech she burst into tears. Then all the girls

began to cry, one after the other. I tried to hold out, Marilla.
I tried to remember the time Mr. Phillips made me sit with

Gil--with a, boy; and the time he spelled my name without an e
on the blackboard; and how he said I was the worst dunce he ever

saw at geometry and laughed at my spelling; and all the times he
had been so horrid and sarcastic; but somehow I couldn't,

Marilla, and I just had to cry too. Jane Andrews has been
talking for a month about how glad she'd be when Mr. Phillips

went away and she declared she'd never shed a tear. Well, she
was worse than any of us and had to borrow a handkerchief from

her brother--of course the boys didn't cry--because she hadn't
brought one of her own, not expecting to need it. Oh, Marilla,

it was heartrending. Mr. Phillips made such a beautiful
farewell speech beginning, `The time has come for us to part.'

It was very affecting. And he had tears in his eyes too, Marilla.
Oh, I felt dreadfully sorry and remorseful for all the times I'd

talked in school and drawn pictures of him on my slate and made
fun of him and Prissy. I can tell you I wished I'd been a model

pupil like Minnie Andrews. She hadn't anything on her conscience.
The girls cried all the way home from school. Carrie Sloane kept

saying every few minutes, `The time has come for us to part,'
and that would start us off again whenever we were in any danger

of cheering up. I do feel dreadfully sad, Marilla. But one can't
feel quite in the depths of despair with two months' vacation

before them, can they, Marilla? And besides, we met the new
minister and his wife coming from the station. For all I was

feeling so bad about Mr. Phillips going away I couldn't help
taking a little interest in a new minister, could I? His wife

is very pretty. Not exactly regally lovely, of course--it
wouldn't do, I suppose, for a minister to have a regally lovely

wife, because it might set a bad example. Mrs. Lynde says the
minister's wife over at Newbridge sets a very bad example because

she dresses so fashionably. Our new minister's wife was dressed in
blue muslin with lovely puffed sleeves and a hat trimmed with roses.

Jane Andrews said she thought puffed sleeves were too worldly for a
minister's wife, but I didn't make any such uncharitable remark,

Marilla, because I know what it is to long for puffed sleeves.
Besides, she's only been a minister's wife for a little while,

so one should make allowances, shouldn't they? They are going
to board with Mrs. Lynde until the manse is ready."

If Marilla, in going down to Mrs. Lynde's that evening, was
actuated by any motive save her avowed one of returning the

quilting frames she had borrowed the preceding winter, it was an
amiable weakness shared by most of the Avonlea people. Many a

thing Mrs. Lynde had lent, sometimes never expecting to see it
again, came home that night in charge of the borrowers thereof.

A new minister, and moreover a minister with a wife, was a lawful
object of curiosity in a quiet little country settlement where

sensations were few and far between.
Old Mr. Bentley, the minister whom Anne had found lacking in

imagination, had been pastor of Avonlea for eighteen years. He
was a widower when he came, and a widower he remained, despite

the fact that gossipregularly married him to this, that, or the
other one, every year of his sojourn. In the preceding February

he had resigned his charge and departed amid the regrets of his
people, most of whom had the affection born of long intercourse for

their good old minister in spite of his shortcomings as an orator.
Since then the Avonlea church had enjoyed a variety of religious

dissipation in listening to the many and various candidates and
"supplies" who came Sunday after Sunday to preach on trial.

These stood or fell by the judgment of the fathers and mothers
in Israel; but a certain small, red-haired girl who sat meekly

in the corner of the old Cuthbert pew also had her opinions about
them and discussed the same in full with Matthew, Marilla always

declining from principle to criticize ministers in any shape or form.
"I don't think Mr. Smith would have done, Matthew" was Anne's

final summing up. "Mrs. Lynde says his delivery was so poor,
but I think his worst fault was just like Mr. Bentley's--he had

no imagination. And Mr. Terry had too much; he let it run away
with him just as I did mine in the matter of the Haunted Wood.

Besides, Mrs. Lynde says his theology wasn't sound. Mr. Gresham
was a very good man and a very religious man, but he told too

many funny stories and made the people laugh in church; he was
undignified, and you must have some dignity about a minister,

mustn't you, Matthew? I thought Mr. Marshall was decidedly
attractive; but Mrs. Lynde says he isn't married, or even

engaged, because she made special inquiries about him, and she
says it would never do to have a young unmarriedminister in

Avonlea, because he might marry in the congregation and that
would make trouble. Mrs. Lynde is a very farseeing woman, isn't

she, Matthew? I'm very glad they've called Mr. Allan. I liked
him because his sermon was interesting and he prayed as if he

meant it and not just as if he did it because he was in the habit
of it. Mrs. Lynde says he isn't perfect, but she says she

supposes we couldn't expect a perfect minister for seven hundred
and fifty dollars a year, and anyhow his theology is sound

because she questioned him thoroughly on all the points of
doctrine. And she knows his wife's people and they are most

respectable and the women are all good housekeepers. Mrs. Lynde
says that sound doctrine in the man and good housekeeping in the

woman make an ideal combination for a minister's family."
The new minister and his wife were a young, pleasant-faced

couple, still on their honeymoon, and full of all good and
beautiful enthusiasms for their chosen lifework. Avonlea

opened its heart to them from the start. Old and young liked
the frank, cheerful young man with his high ideals, and the bright,

gentle little lady who assumed the mistress-ship of the manse.
With Mrs. Allan Anne fell promptly and wholeheartedly in love.

She had discovered another kindred spirit.
"Mrs. Allan is perfectly lovely," she announced one Sunday afternoon.

"She's taken our class and she's a splendid teacher. She said right
away she didn't think it was fair for the teacher to ask all the

questions, and you know, Marilla, that is exactly what I've
always thought. She said we could ask her any question we liked

and I asked ever so many. I'm good at asking questions, Marilla."
"I believe you" was Marilla's emphatic comment.

"Nobody else asked any except Ruby Gillis, and she asked if there
was to be a Sunday-school picnic this summer. I didn't think

that was a very proper question to ask because it hadn't any
connection with the lesson--the lesson was about Daniel in the

lions' den--but Mrs. Allan just smiled and said she thought there
would be. Mrs. Allan has a lovely smile; she has such EXQUISITE

dimples in her cheeks. I wish I had dimples in my cheeks, Marilla.
I'm not half so skinny as I was when I came here, but I have no

dimples yet. If I had perhaps I could influence people for good.
Mrs. Allan said we ought always to try to influence other people

for good. She talked so nice about everything. I never knew before
that religion was such a cheerful thing. I always thought it was

kind of melancholy, but Mrs. Allan's isn't, and I'd like to be a
Christian if I could be one like her. I wouldn't want to be one