it, instead of always
sending him upstairs to miss all the fun."

"Don't blame Davy," said Anne, gathering up the fragments with trembling
fingers. "It was my fault. I set that platter there and forgot all about
it. I am properly punished for my carelessness; but oh, what will Miss
Barry say?"

"Well, you know she only bought it, so it isn't the same as if it was an
heirloom," said Diana, trying to console.

The guests went away soon after, feeling that it was the most tactful
thing to do, and Anne and Diana washed the dishes, talking less than
they had ever been known to do before. Then Diana went home with a
headache and Anne went with another to the east gable, where she stayed
until Marilla came home from the post office at sunset, with a letter
from Priscilla, written the day before. Mrs. Morgan had sprained her
ankle so severely that she could not leave her room.

"And oh, Anne dear," wrote Priscilla, "I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid we
won't get up to Green Gables at all now, for by the time Aunty's ankle
is well she will have to go back to Toronto. She has to be there by a
certain date."

"Well," sighed Anne, laying the letter down on the red sandstone step
of the back porch, where she was sitting, while the twilight rained down
out of a dappled sky, "I always thought it was too good to be true that
Mrs. Morgan should really come. But there . . . that speech sounds as
pessimistic as Miss Eliza Andrews and I'm ashamed of making it. After
all, it was NOT too good to be true . . . things just as good and far
better are coming true for me all the time. And I suppose the events of
today have a funny side too. Perhaps when Diana and I are old and gray
we shall be able to laugh over them. But I feel that I can't expect to
do it before then, for it has truly been a bitter disappointment."

"You'll probably have a good many more and worse disappointments than
that before you get through life," said Marilla, who honestly thought
she was making a comforting speech. "It seems to me, Anne, that you are
never going to outgrow your fashion of setting your heart so on things
and then crashing down into despair because you don't get them."

"I know I'm too much inclined that, way" agreed Anne ruefully. "When I
think something nice is going to happen I seem to fly right up on the
wings of anticipation; and then the first thing I realize I drop down to
earth with a thud. But really, Marilla, the flying part IS glorious
as lo