Shirley? When our innocent boy was
five years old Uncle Jacob actually went and got married and now he has
three boys of his own. Did you ever hear of such ingratitude? The moment
the invitation to the wedding . . . for he had the impertinence to send
us an invitation, Miss Shirley . . . came to the house I said, 'No more
Jacobs for me, thank you.' From that day I called my son St. Clair and
St. Clair I am determined he shall be called. His father obstinately
continues to call him Jacob, and the boy himself has a perfectly
unaccountable preference for the vulgar name. But St. Clair he is and
St. Clair he shall remain. You will kindly remember this, Miss Shirley,
will you not? THANK you. I told Clarice Almira that I was sure it was
only a misunderstanding and that a word would set it right. Donnell. . .
accent on the last syllable . . . and St. Clair . . . on no account
Jacob. You'll remember? THANK you."

When Mrs. H. B. DonNELL had skimmed away Anne locked the school door and
went home. At the foot of the hill she found Paul Irving by the Birch
Path. He held out to her a cluster of the dainty little wild orchids
which Avonlea children called "rice lillies."

"Please, teacher, I found these in Mr. Wright's field," he said shyly,
"and I came back to give them to you because I thought you were the
kind of lady that would like them, and because . . ." he lifted his big
beautiful eyes . . . "I like you, teacher."

"You darling," said Anne, taking the fragrant spikes. As if Paul's words
had been a spell of magic, discouragement and weariness passed from her
spirit, and hope upwelled in her heart like a dancing fountain. She went
through the Birch Path light-footedly, attended by the sweetness of her
orchids as by a benediction.

"Well, how did you get along?" Marilla wanted to know.

"Ask me that a month later and I may be able to tell you. I can't now
. . . I don't know myself . . . I'm too near it. My thoughts feel as if
they had been all stirred up until they were thick and muddy. The only
thing I feel really sure of having accomplished today is that I taught
Cliffie Wright that A is A. He never knew it before. Isn't it something
to have started a soul along a path that may end in Shakespeare and
Paradise Lost?"

Mrs. Lynde came up later on with more encouragement. That good lady had
waylaid the schoolchildren at her gate and demanded of them how they
liked their new teacher.

"And every one of them said they like