ene of endless consultations
and plannings and discussions, with Charlotta the Fourth hovering on the
outskirts of things in agitated delight and wonder. Then the dressmaker
came, and there was the rapture and wretchedness of choosing fashions
and being fitted. Anne and Diana spent half their time at Echo Lodge and
there were nights when Anne could not sleep for wondering whether she
had done right in advising Miss Lavendar to select brown rather than
navy blue for her traveling dress, and to have her gray silk made
princess.

Everybody concerned in Miss Lavendar's story was very happy. Paul Irving
rushed to Green Gables to talk the news over with Anne as soon as his
father had told him.

"I knew I could trust father to pick me out a nice little second
mother," he said proudly. "It's a fine thing to have a father you can
depend on, teacher. I just love Miss Lavendar. Grandma is pleased, too.
She says she's real glad father didn't pick out an American for his
second wife, because, although it turned out all right the first time,
such a thing wouldn't be likely to happen twice. Mrs. Lynde says she
thoroughly approves of the match and thinks its likely Miss Lavendar
will give up her queer notions and be like other people, now that she's
going to be married. But I hope she won't give her queer notions up,
teacher, because I like them. And I don't want her to be like other
people. There are too many other people around as it is. YOU know,
teacher."

Charlotta the Fourth was another radiant person.

"Oh, Miss Shirley, ma'am, it has all turned out so beautiful. When Mr.
Irving and Miss Lavendar come back from their tower I'm to go up to
Boston and live with them . . . and me only fifteen, and the other girls
never went till they were sixteen. Ain't Mr. Irving splendid? He
just worships the ground she treads on and it makes me feel so queer
sometimes to see the look in his eyes when he's watching her. It beggars
description, Miss Shirley, ma'am. I'm awful thankful they're so fond
of each other. It's the best way, when all's said and done, though some
folks can get along without it. I've got an aunt who has been married
three times and says she married the first time for love and the last
two times for strictly business, and was happy with all three except at
the times of the funerals. But I think she took a resk, Miss Shirley,
ma'am."

"Oh, it's all so romantic," breathed Anne to Marilla that night. "If I
hadn't taken th