tear-stained face and trembling lips. "YOU would cry, too, if you were
an orphan and had come to a place you thought was going to be home and
found that they didn't want you because you weren't a boy. Oh, this is
the most TRAGICAL thing that ever happened to me!"

Something like a reluctant smile, rather rusty from long disuse,
mellowed Marilla's grim expression.

"Well, don't cry any more. We're not going to turn you out-of-doors
to-night. You'll have to stay here until we investigate this affair.
What's your name?"

The child hesitated for a moment.

"Will you please call me Cordelia?" she said eagerly.

"CALL you Cordelia? Is that your name?"

"No-o-o, it's not exactly my name, but I would love to be called
Cordelia. It's such a perfectly elegant name."

"I don't know what on earth you mean. If Cordelia isn't your name, what
is?"

"Anne Shirley," reluctantly faltered forth the owner of that name, "but,
oh, please do call me Cordelia. It can't matter much to you what you
call me if I'm only going to be here a little while, can it? And Anne is
such an unromantic name."

"Unromantic fiddlesticks!" said the unsympathetic Marilla. "Anne is a
real good plain sensible name. You've no need to be ashamed of it."

"Oh, I'm not ashamed of it," explained Anne, "only I like Cordelia
better. I've always imagined that my name was Cordelia--at least, I
always have of late years. When I was young I used to imagine it was
Geraldine, but I like Cordelia better now. But if you call me Anne
please call me Anne spelled with an E."

"What difference does it make how it's spelled?" asked Marilla with
another rusty smile as she picked up the teapot.

"Oh, it makes SUCH a difference. It LOOKS so much nicer. When you hear a
name pronounced can't you always see it in your mind, just as if it was
printed out? I can; and A-n-n looks dreadful, but A-n-n-e looks so much
more distinguished. If you'll only call me Anne spelled with an E I
shall try to reconcile myself to not being called Cordelia."

"Very well, then, Anne spelled with an E, can you tell us how this
mistake came to be made? We sent word to Mrs. Spencer to bring us a boy.
Were there no boys at the asylum?"

"Oh, yes, there was an abundance of them. But Mrs. Spencer said
DISTINCTLY that you wanted a girl about eleven years old. And the matron
said she thought I would do. You don't know how delighted I was. I
couldn't sleep all last night for joy. Oh," she added reproach