he happy Charlotta the Fourth basted and
swept up clippings. Miss Lavendar had complained that she could not feel
much interest in anything, but the sparkle came back to her eyes over
her pretty dress.

"What a foolish, frivolous person I must be," she sighed. "I'm
wholesomely ashamed to think that a new dress . . . even it is a
forget-me-not organdy . . . should exhilarate me so, when a good
conscience and an extra contribution to Foreign Missions couldn't do
it."

Midway in her visit Anne went home to Green Gables for a day to mend the
twins' stockings and settle up Davy's accumulated store of questions. In
the evening she went down to the shore road to see Paul Irving. As she
passed by the low, square window of the Irving sitting room she caught
a glimpse of Paul on somebody's lap; but the next moment he came flying
through the hall.

"Oh, Miss Shirley," he cried excitedly, "you can't think what has
happened! Something so splendid. Father is here . . . just think of that!
Father is here! Come right in. Father, this is my beautiful teacher. YOU
know, father."

Stephen Irving came forward to meet Anne with a smile. He was a tall,
handsome man of middle age, with iron-gray hair, deep-set, dark blue
eyes, and a strong, sad face, splendidly modeled about chin and brow.
Just the face for a hero of romance, Anne thought with a thrill of
intense satisfaction. It was so disappointing to meet someone who ought
to be a hero and find him bald or stooped, or otherwise lacking in
manly beauty. Anne would have thought it dreadful if the object of Miss
Lavendar's romance had not looked the part.

"So this is my little son's 'beautiful teacher,' of whom I have heard
so much," said Mr. Irving with a hearty handshake. "Paul's letters have
been so full of you, Miss Shirley, that I feel as if I were pretty well
acquainted with you already. I want to thank you for what you have done
for Paul. I think that your influence has been just what he needed.
Mother is one of the best and dearest of women; but her robust,
matter-of-fact Scotch common sense could not always understand a
temperament like my laddie's. What was lacking in her you have supplied.
Between you, I think Paul's training in these two past years has been as
nearly ideal as a motherless boy's could be."

Everybody likes to be appreciated. Under Mr. Irving's praise Anne's
face "burst flower like into rosy bloom," and the busy, weary man of the
world, looking at her, th