ead
of the stairs. I must run out to the kitchen and see that Charlotta the
Fourth isn't letting the tea boil. Charlotta the Fourth is a very good
girl but she WILL let the tea boil."

Miss Lavendar tripped off to the kitchen on hospitable thoughts intent
and the girls found their way up to the spare room, an apartment as
white as its door, lighted by the ivy-hung dormer window and looking, as
Anne said, like the place where happy dreams grew.

"This is quite an adventure, isn't it?" said Diana. "And isn't Miss
Lavendar sweet, if she IS a little odd? She doesn't look a bit like an
old maid."

"She looks just as music sounds, I think," answered Anne.

When they went down Miss Lavendar was carrying in the teapot, and behind
her, looking vastly pleased, was Charlotta the Fourth, with a plate of
hot biscuits.

"Now, you must tell me your names," said Miss Lavendar. "I'm so glad you
are young girls. I love young girls. It's so easy to pretend I'm a girl
myself when I'm with them. I do hate" . . . with a little grimace . . . "to
believe I'm old. Now, who are you . . . just for convenience' sake? Diana
Barry? And Anne Shirley? May I pretend that I've known you for a hundred
years and call you Anne and Diana right away?"

"You, may" the girls said both together.

"Then just let's sit comfily down and eat everything," said Miss
Lavendar happily. "Charlotta, you sit at the foot and help with the
chicken. It is so fortunate that I made the sponge cake and doughnuts.
Of course, it was foolish to do it for imaginary guests . . . I know
Charlotta the Fourth thought so, didn't you, Charlotta? But you see how
well it has turned out. Of course they wouldn't have been wasted, for
Charlotta the Fourth and I could have eaten them through time. But
sponge cake is not a thing that improves with time."

That was a merry and memorable meal; and when it was over they all went
out to the garden, lying in the glamor of sunset.

"I do think you have the loveliest place here," said Diana, looking
round her admiringly.

"Why do you call it Echo Lodge?" asked Anne.

"Charlotta," said Miss Lavendar, "go into the house and bring out the
little tin horn that is hanging over the clock shelf."

Charlotta the Fourth skipped off and returned with the horn.

"Blow it, Charlotta," commanded Miss Lavendar.

Charlotta accordingly blew, a rather raucous, strident blast. There was
moment's stillness . . . and then from the woods over the river