on't think you
need worry."

Anne decided not to worry. Her feelings were a mixture of relief and
resentment. Roy had certainly told her she was the only one he had ever
loved. No doubt he believed it. But it was a comfort to feel that she
had not, in all likelihood, ruined his life. There were other goddesses,
and Roy, according to Dorothy, must needs be worshipping at some shrine.
Nevertheless, life was stripped of several more illusions, and Anne
began to think drearily that it seemed rather bare.

She came down from the porch gable on the evening of her return with a
sorrowful face.

"What has happened to the old Snow Queen, Marilla?"

"Oh, I knew you'd feel bad over that," said Marilla. "I felt bad myself.
That tree was there ever since I was a young girl. It blew down in the
big gale we had in March. It was rotten at the core."

"I'll miss it so," grieved Anne. "The porch gable doesn't seem the same
room without it. I'll never look from its window again without a sense
of loss. And oh, I never came home to Green Gables before that Diana
wasn't here to welcome me."

"Diana has something else to think of just now," said Mrs. Lynde
significantly.

"Well, tell me all the Avonlea news," said Anne, sitting down on the
porch steps, where the evening sunshine fell over her hair in a fine
golden rain.

"There isn't much news except what we've wrote you," said Mrs. Lynde. "I
suppose you haven't heard that Simon Fletcher broke his leg last week.
It's a great thing for his family. They're getting a hundred things done
that they've always wanted to do but couldn't as long as he was about,
the old crank."

"He came of an aggravating family," remarked Marilla.

"Aggravating? Well, rather! His mother used to get up in prayer-meeting
and tell all her children's shortcomings and ask prayers for them.
'Course it made them mad, and worse than ever."

"You haven't told Anne the news about Jane," suggested Marilla.

"Oh, Jane," sniffed Mrs. Lynde. "Well," she conceded grudgingly, "Jane
Andrews is home from the West--came last week--and she's going to be
married to a Winnipeg millionaire. You may be sure Mrs. Harmon lost no
time in telling it far and wide."

"Dear old Jane--I'm so glad," said Anne heartily. "She deserves the good
things of life."

"Oh, I ain't saying anything against Jane. She's a nice enough girl. But
she isn't in the millionaire class, and you'll find there's not much to
recommend that man but his m