nt Atossa's funeral was tomorrow instead of today. I wanted to go to
it 'cause Milty said his mother said Aunt Atossa would be sure to rise
up in her coffin and say sarcastic things to the folks that come to see
her buried. But Marilla said she didn't."

"Poor Atossa laid in her coffin peaceful enough," said Mrs. Lynde
solemnly. "I never saw her look so pleasant before, that's what. Well,
there weren't many tears shed over her, poor old soul. The Elisha
Wrights are thankful to be rid of her, and I can't say I blame them a
mite."

"It seems to me a most dreadful thing to go out of the world and not
leave one person behind you who is sorry you are gone," said Anne,
shuddering.

"Nobody except her parents ever loved poor Atossa, that's certain, not
even her husband," averred Mrs. Lynde. "She was his fourth wife. He'd
sort of got into the habit of marrying. He only lived a few years after
he married her. The doctor said he died of dyspepsia, but I shall always
maintain that he died of Atossa's tongue, that's what. Poor soul, she
always knew everything about her neighbors, but she never was very well
acquainted with herself. Well, she's gone anyhow; and I suppose the next
excitement will be Diana's wedding."

"It seems funny and horrible to think of Diana's being married," sighed
Anne, hugging her knees and looking through the gap in the Haunted Wood
to the light that was shining in Diana's room.

"I don't see what's horrible about it, when she's doing so well," said
Mrs. Lynde emphatically. "Fred Wright has a fine farm and he is a model
young man."

"He certainly isn't the wild, dashing, wicked, young man Diana once
wanted to marry," smiled Anne. "Fred is extremely good."

"That's just what he ought to be. Would you want Diana to marry a wicked
man? Or marry one yourself?"

"Oh, no. I wouldn't want to marry anybody who was wicked, but I think
I'd like it if he COULD be wicked and WOULDN'T. Now, Fred is HOPELESSLY
good."

"You'll have more sense some day, I hope," said Marilla.

Marilla spoke rather bitterly. She was grievously disappointed. She knew
Anne had refused Gilbert Blythe. Avonlea gossip buzzed over the fact,
which had leaked out, nobody knew how. Perhaps Charlie Sloane had
guessed and told his guesses for truth. Perhaps Diana had betrayed it
to Fred and Fred had been indiscreet. At all events it was known; Mrs.
Blythe no longer asked Anne, in public or private, if she had heard
lately from Gilbert, bu