酷兔英语

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curls. "Fare thee well, my beloved friend. Henceforth we must

be as strangers though living side by side. But my heart will



ever be faithful to thee."

Anne stood and watched Diana out of sight, mournfully waving her



hand to the latter whenever she turned to look back. Then she

returned to the house, not a little consoled for the time being



by this romanticparting.

"It is all over," she informed Marilla. "I shall never have



another friend. I'm really worse off than ever before, for I

haven't Katie Maurice and Violetta now. And even if I had it



wouldn't be the same. Somehow, little dream girls are not

satisfying after a real friend. Diana and I had such an



affecting farewell down by the spring. It will be sacred in my

memory forever. I used the most pathetic language I could think



of and said `thou' and `thee.' `Thou' and `thee' seem so much

more romantic than `you.' Diana gave me a lock of her hair and



I'm going to sew it up in a little bag and wear it around my neck

all my life. Please see that it is buried with me, for I don't



believe I'll live very long. Perhaps when she sees me lying cold

and dead before her Mrs. Barry may feel remorse for what she has



done and will let Diana come to my funeral."

"I don't think there is much fear of your dying of grief as long



as you can talk, Anne," said Marilla unsympathetically.

The following Monday Anne surprised Marilla by coming down from



her room with her basket of books on her arm and hip??? lips primmed

up into a line of determination.



"I'm going back to school," she announced. "That is all there is

left in life for me, now that my friend has been ruthlessly torn



from me. In school I can look at her and muse over days

departed."



"You'd better muse over your lessons and sums," said Marilla,

concealing her delight at this development of the situation. "If



you're going back to school I hope we'll hear no more of breaking

slates over people's heads and such carryings on. Behave



yourself and do just what your teacher tells you."

"I'll try to be a model pupil," agreed Anne dolefully. "There



won't be much fun in it, I expect. Mr. Phillips said Minnie

Andrews was a model pupil and there isn't a spark of imagination



or life in her. She is just dull and poky and never seems to

have a good time. But I feel so depressed that perhaps it will



come easy to me now. I'm going round by the road. I couldn't

bear to go by the Birch Path all alone. I should weep bitter



tears if I did."

Anne was welcomed back to school with open arms. Her imagination



had been sorely missed in games, her voice in the singing and her

dramatic ability in the perusal aloud of books at dinner hour.



Ruby Gillis smuggled three blue plums over to her during

testament reading; Ella May MacPherson gave her an enormous



yellow pansy cut from the covers of a floral catalogue--a species

of desk decoration much prized in Avonlea school. Sophia Sloane



offered to teach her a perfectlyelegant new pattern of knit

lace, so nice for trimming aprons. Katie Boulter gave her a



perfume bottle to keep slate water in, and Julia Bell copied

carefully on a piece of pale pink paper scalloped on the edges



the following effusion:

When twilight drops her curtain down



And pins it with a star

Remember that you have a friend



Though she may wander far.

"It's so nice to be appreciated," sighed Anne rapturously to



Marilla that night.

The girls were not the only scholars who "appreciated" her. When



Anne went to her seat after dinner hour--she had been told by Mr.

Phillips to sit with the model Minnie Andrews--she found on her



desk a big luscious "strawberry apple." Anne caught it up all

ready to take a bite when she remembered that the only place in



Avonlea where strawberry apples grew was in the old Blythe

orchard on the other side of the Lake of Shining Waters. Anne



dropped the apple as if it were a red-hot coal and ostentatiously

wiped her fingers on her handkerchief. The apple lay untouched



on her desk until the next morning, when little Timothy Andrews,

who swept the school and kindled the fire, annexed it as one of



his perquisites. Charlie Sloane's slate pencil, gorgeously

bedizened with striped red and yellow paper, costing two cents



where ordinary pencils cost only one, which he sent up to her

after dinner hour, met with a more favorablereception. Anne was



graciously pleased to accept it and rewarded the donor with a




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