stop, for you know the proverb 'three times a bridesmaid,
never a bride,'" said Anne, peeping through the window over the pink
and snow of the blossoming orchard beneath. "Here comes the minister,
Diana."

"Oh, Anne," gasped Diana, suddenly turning very pale and beginning to
tremble. "Oh, Anne--I'm so nervous--I can't go through with it--Anne, I
know I'm going to faint."

"If you do I'll drag you down to the rainwater hogshed and drop you in,"
said Anne unsympathetically. "Cheer up, dearest. Getting married can't
be so very terrible when so many people survive the ceremony. See how
cool and composed I am, and take courage."

"Wait till your turn comes, Miss Anne. Oh, Anne, I hear father coming
upstairs. Give me my bouquet. Is my veil right? Am I very pale?"

"You look just lovely. Di, darling, kiss me good-bye for the last time.
Diana Barry will never kiss me again."

"Diana Wright will, though. There, mother's calling. Come."

Following the simple, old-fashioned way in vogue then, Anne went down to
the parlor on Gilbert's arm. They met at the top of the stairs for the
first time since they had left Kingsport, for Gilbert had arrived only
that day. Gilbert shook hands courteously. He was looking very well,
though, as Anne instantly noted, rather thin. He was not pale; there was
a flush on his cheek that had burned into it as Anne came along the hall
towards him, in her soft, white dress with lilies-of-the-valley in the
shining masses of her hair. As they entered the crowded parlor together
a little murmur of admiration ran around the room. "What a fine-looking
pair they are," whispered the impressible Mrs. Rachel to Marilla.

Fred ambled in alone, with a very red face, and then Diana swept in on
her father's arm. She did not faint, and nothing untoward occurred to
interrupt the ceremony. Feasting and merry-making followed; then, as the
evening waned, Fred and Diana drove away through the moonlight to their
new home, and Gilbert walked with Anne to Green Gables.

Something of their old comradeship had returned during the informal
mirth of the evening. Oh, it was nice to be walking over that well-known
road with Gilbert again!

The night was so very still that one should have been able to hear the
whisper of roses in blossom--the laughter of daisies--the piping of
grasses--many sweet sounds, all tangled up together. The beauty of
moonlight on familiar fields irradiated the world.

"Can't we take a ramble up Lo