not crazy and not asleep she can't be such stuff as
dreams are made of . . . she must be real. Anyway, I'm sure I couldn't
have imagined such a bonnet. She says she is Mr. Harrison's wife,
Marilla."

Marilla stared in her turn.

"His wife! Anne Shirley! Then what has he been passing himself off as an
unmarried man for?"

"I don't suppose he did, really," said Anne, trying to be just. "He
never said he wasn't married. People simply took it for granted. Oh
Marilla, what will Mrs. Lynde say to this?"

They found out what Mrs. Lynde had to say when she came up that evening.
Mrs. Lynde wasn't surprised! Mrs. Lynde had always expected something
of the sort! Mrs. Lynde had always known there was SOMETHING about Mr.
Harrison!

"To think of his deserting his wife!" she said indignantly. "It's like
something you'd read of in the States, but who would expect such a thing
to happen right here in Avonlea?"

"But we don't know that he deserted her," protested Anne, determined to
believe her friend innocent till he was proved guilty. "We don't know
the rights of it at all."

"Well, we soon will. I'm going straight over there," said Mrs. Lynde,
who had never learned that there was such a word as delicacy in the
dictionary. "I'm not supposed to know anything about her arrival, and
Mr. Harrison was to bring some medicine for Thomas from Carmody today,
so that will be a good excuse. I'll find out the whole story and come in
and tell you on the way back."

Mrs. Lynde rushed in where Anne had feared to tread. Nothing would have
induced the latter to go over to the Harrison place; but she had her
natural and proper share of curiosity and she felt secretly glad that
Mrs. Lynde was going to solve the mystery. She and Marilla waited
expectantly for that good lady's return, but waited in vain. Mrs. Lynde
did not revisit Green Gables that night. Davy, arriving home at nine
o'clock from the Boulter place, explained why.

"I met Mrs. Lynde and some strange woman in the Hollow," he said, "and
gracious, how they were talking both at once! Mrs. Lynde said to tell
you she was sorry it was too late to call tonight. Anne, I'm awful
hungry. We had tea at Milty's at four and I think Mrs. Boulter is real
mean. She didn't give us any preserves or cake . . . and even the bread
was skurce."

"Davy, when you go visiting you must never criticize anything you are
given to eat," said Anne solemnly. "It is very bad manners."

"All right . . . I'll o