do you think it will rise? Just suppose perhaps the baking powder

isn't good? I used it out of the new can. And Mrs. Lynde says
you can never be sure of getting good baking powder nowadays when

everything is so adulterated. Mrs. Lynde says the Government ought
to take the matter up, but she says we'll never see the day when a

Tory Government will do it. Marilla, what if that cake doesn't rise?"
"We'll have plenty without it" was Marilla's unimpassioned way of

looking at the subject.
The cake did rise, however, and came out of the oven as light and

feathery as golden foam. Anne, flushed with delight, clapped it
together with layers of ruby jelly and, in imagination, saw Mrs.

Allan eating it and possibly asking for another piece!
"You'll be using the best tea set, of course, Marilla," she said.

"Can I fix the table with ferns and wild roses?"
"I think that's all nonsense," sniffed Marilla. "In my opinion

it's the eatables that matter and not flummery decorations."
"Mrs. Barry had HER table decorated," said Anne, who was not

entirely guiltless of the wisdom of the serpent, "and the
minister paid her an elegantcompliment. He said it was a feast

for the eye as well as the palate."
"Well, do as you like," said Marilla, who was quite determined

not to be surpassed by Mrs. Barry or anybody else. "Only mind
you leave enough room for the dishes and the food."

Anne laid herself out to decorate in a manner and after a fashion
that should leave Mrs. Barry's nowhere. Having abundance of roses

and ferns and a very artistic taste of her own, she made that tea
table such a thing of beauty that when the minister and his wife

sat down to it they exclaimed in chorus over it loveliness.
"It's Anne's doings," said Marilla, grimly just; and Anne felt

that Mrs. Allan's approving smile was almost too much happiness
for this world.

Matthew was there, having been inveigled into the party only
goodness and Anne knew how. He had been in such a state of

shyness and nervousness that Marilla had given him up in despair,
but Anne took him in hand so successfully that he now sat at the

table in his best clothes and white collar and talked to the
minister not uninterestingly. He never said a word to Mrs. Allan,

but that perhaps was not to be expected.
All went merry as a marriage bell until Anne's layer cake was

passed. Mrs. Allan, having already been helped to a bewildering
variety, declined it. But Marilla, seeing the disappointment on

Anne's face, said smilingly:
"Oh, you must take a piece of this, Mrs. Allan. Anne made it on

purpose for you."
"In that case I must sample it," laughed Mrs. Allan, helping

herself to a plump triangle, as did also the minister and
Marilla.

Mrs. Allan took a mouthful of hers and a most peculiar expression
crossed her face; not a word did she say, however, but steadily

ate away at it. Marilla saw the expression and hastened to
taste the cake.

"Anne Shirley!" she exclaimed, "what on earth did you put into
that cake?"

"Nothing but what the recipe said, Marilla," cried Anne with a
look of anguish. "Oh, isn't it all right?"

"All right! It's simply horrible. Mr. Allan, don't try to eat
it. Anne, taste it yourself. What flavoring did you use?"

"Vanilla," said Anne, her face scarlet with mortification after
tasting the cake. "Only vanilla. Oh, Marilla, it must have been

the baking powder. I had my suspicions of that bak--"
"Baking powder fiddlesticks! Go and bring me the bottle of

vanilla you used."
Anne fled to the pantry and returned with a small bottle

partially filled with a brown liquid and labeled yellowly,
"Best Vanilla."

Marilla took it, uncorked it, smelled it.
"Mercy on us, Anne, you've flavored that cake with ANODYNE

LINIMENT. I broke the liniment bottle last week and poured what
was left into an old empty vanilla bottle. I suppose it's partly

my fault--I should have warned you--but for pity's sake why
couldn't you have smelled it?"

Anne dissolved into tears under this double disgrace.
"I couldn't--I had such a cold!" and with this she fairly fled to

the gable chamber, where she cast herself on the bed and wept as
one who refuses to be comforted.

Presently a light step sounded on the stairs and somebody entered the room.
"Oh, Marilla," sobbed Anne, without looking up, "I'm disgraced forever.

I shall never be able to live this down. It will get out--things
always do get out in Avonlea. Diana will ask me how my cake turned out

and I shall have to tell her the truth. I shall always be pointed at
as the girl who flavored a cake with anodyne liniment. Gil--the boys

in school will never get over laughing at it. Oh, Marilla, if you have
a spark of Christian pity don't tell me that I must go down and wash the

dishes after this. I'll wash them when the minister and his wife are gone,
but I cannot ever look Mrs. Allan in the face again. Perhaps she'll think

I tried to poison her. Mrs. Lynde says she knows an orphan girl who tried
to poison her benefactor. But the liniment isn't poisonous. It's meant

to be taken internally--although not in cakes. Won't you tell Mrs. Allan
so, Marilla?"

"Suppose you jump up and tell her so yourself," said a merry voice.
Anne flew up, to find Mrs. Allan standing by her bed, surveying her

with laughing eyes.
"My dear little girl, you musn't cry like this," she said,

genuinely disturbed by Anne's tragic face. "Why, it's all just a
funny mistake that anybody might make."

"Oh, no, it takes me to make such a mistake," said Anne forlornly.
"And I wanted to have that cake so nice for you, Mrs. Allan."

"Yes, I know, dear. And I assure you I appreciate your kindness
and thoughtfulness just as much as if it had turned out all right.

Now, you mustn't cry any more, but come down with me and show me your
flower garden. Miss Cuthbert tells me you have a little plot all

your own. I want to see it, for I'm very much interested in flowers."
Anne permitted herself to be led down and comforted, reflecting

that it was really providential that Mrs. Allan was a kindred
spirit. Nothing more was said about the liniment cake, and when

the guests went away Anne found that she had enjoyed the evening
more than could have been expected, considering that terrible

incident. Nevertheless, she sighed deeply.
"Marilla, isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with

no mistakes in it yet?"
"I'll warrant you'll make plenty in it," said Marilla. "I never

saw your beat for making mistakes, Anne."
"Yes, and well I know it," admitted Anne mournfully. "But

have you ever noticed one encouraging thing about me, Marilla?
I never make the same mistake twice."

"I don't know as that's much benefit when you're always making new ones."
"Oh, don't you see, Marilla? There must be a limit to the mistakes

one person can make, and when I get to the end of them, then I'll be
through with them. That's a very comforting thought."

"Well, you'd better go and give that cake to the pigs," said Marilla.
"It isn't fit for any human to eat, not even Jerry Boute."

CHAPTER XXII
Anne is Invited Out to Tea

"And what are your eyes popping out of your head about. Now?"
asked Marilla, when Anne had just come in from a run to the

post office. "Have you discovered another kindred spirit?"
Excitement hung around Anne like a garment, shone in her eyes,

kindled in every feature. She had come dancing up the lane, like
a wind-blown sprite, through the mellowsunshine and lazy shadows

of the August evening.
"No, Marilla, but oh, what do you think? I am invited to tea at