on, evidently nearer fifty than forty, but with rosy
cheeks, sparkling black eyes, and shining black hair, surmounted by
a wonderful beflowered and beplumed bonnet. In spite of having driven
eight miles over a dusty road she was as neat as if she had just stepped
out of the proverbial bandbox.

"Is this where Mr. James A. Harrison lives?" she inquired briskly.

"No, Mr. Harrison lives over there," said Anne, quite lost in
astonishment.

"Well, I DID think this place seemed too tidy . . . MUCH too tidy for
James A. to be living here, unless he has greatly changed since I knew
him," chirped the little lady. "Is it true that James A. is going to be
married to some woman living in this settlement?"

"No, oh no," cried Anne, flushing so guiltily that the stranger looked
curiously at her, as if she half suspected her of matrimonial designs on
Mr. Harrison.

"But I saw it in an Island paper," persisted the Fair Unknown. "A friend
sent a marked copy to me . . . friends are always so ready to do such
things. James A.'s name was written in over 'new citizen.'"

"Oh, that note was only meant as a joke," gasped Anne. "Mr. Harrison has
no intention of marrying ANYBODY. I assure you he hasn't."

"I'm very glad to hear it," said the rosy lady, climbing nimbly back to
her seat in the wagon, "because he happens to be married already. _I_
am his wife. Oh, you may well look surprised. I suppose he has been
masquerading as a bachelor and breaking hearts right and left. Well,
well, James A.," nodding vigorously over the fields at the long white
house, "your fun is over. I am here . . . though I wouldn't have bothered
coming if I hadn't thought you were up to some mischief. I suppose,"
turning to Anne, "that parrot of his is as profane as ever?"

"His parrot . . . is dead . . . I THINK," gasped poor Anne, who couldn't
have felt sure of her own name at that precise moment.

"Dead! Everything will be all right then," cried the rosy lady
jubilantly. "I can manage James A. if that bird is out of the way."

With which cryptic utterance she went joyfully on her way and Anne flew
to the kitchen door to meet Marilla.

"Anne, who was that woman?"

"Marilla," said Anne solemnly, but with dancing eyes, "do I look as if I
were crazy?"

"Not more so than usual," said Marilla, with no thought of being
sarcastic.

"Well then, do you think I am awake?"

"Anne, what nonsense has got into you? Who was that woman, I say?"

"Marilla, if I'm