stories before she went to the foreign field, but now she has turned her attention
to higher things. She used to say her motto was ‘Never write a line you would be
ashamed to read at your own funeral.’ You’d better take that for yours, Anne, if
you are going to embark in literature. Though, to be sure,” added Aunt Jamesina
perplexedly, “Elizabeth always used to laugh when she said it. She always
laughed so much that I don’t know how she ever came to decide on being a
missionary. I’m thankful she did—I prayed that she might—but—I wish she
hadn’t.”
Then Aunt Jamesina wondered why those giddy girls all laughed.
Anne’s eyes shone all that day; literary ambitions sprouted and budded in her
brain; their exhilaration accompanied her to Jennie Cooper’s walking party, and
not even the sight of Gilbert and Christine, walking just ahead of her and Roy,
could quite subdue the sparkle of her starry hopes. Nevertheless, she was not so
rapt from things of earth as to be unable to notice that Christine’s walk was
decidedly ungraceful.
“But I suppose Gilbert looks only at her face. So like a man,” thought Anne
scornfully.
“Shall you be home Saturday afternoon?” asked Roy.
“Yes.”
“My mother and sisters are coming to call on you,” said Roy quietly.
Something went over Anne which might be described as a thrill, but it was
hardly a pleasant one. She had never met any of Roy’s family; she realized the
significance of his statement; and it had, somehow, an irrevocableness about it
that chilled her.
“I shall be glad to see them,” she said flatly; and then wondered if she really
would be glad. She ought to be, of course. But would it not be something of an
ordeal? Gossip had filtered to Anne regarding the light in which the Gardners
viewed the “infatuation” of son and brother. Roy must have brought pressure to
bear in the matter of this call. Anne knew she would be weighed in the balance.
From the fact that they had consented to call she understood that, willingly or
unwillingly, they regarded her as a possible member of their clan.
“I shall just be myself. I shall not TRY to make a good impression,” thought
Anne loftily. But she was wondering what dress she would better wear Saturday
afternoon, and if the new style of high hair-dressing would suit her better than
the old; and the walking party was rather spoiled for her. By night she had
decided that she would wear her brown chiffon on Saturday, but would do her
hair low.