. . . spots she and Diana had so named long ago. She walked slowly,
enjoying the sweetness of wood and field and the starry summer twilight,
and thinking soberly about the new duties she was to take up on the
morrow. When she reached the yard at Green Gables Mrs. Lynde's loud,
decided tones floated out through the open kitchen window.

"Mrs. Lynde has come up to give me good advice about tomorrow," thought
Anne with a grimace, "but I don't believe I'll go in. Her advice is
much like pepper, I think . . . excellent in small quantities but rather
scorching in her doses. I'll run over and have a chat with Mr. Harrison
instead."

This was not the first time Anne had run over and chatted with Mr.
Harrison since the notable affair of the Jersey cow. She had been
there several evenings and Mr. Harrison and she were very good friends,
although there were times and seasons when Anne found the outspokenness
on which he prided himself rather trying. Ginger still continued to
regard her with suspicion, and never failed to greet her sarcastically
as "redheaded snippet." Mr. Harrison had tried vainly to break him
of the habit by jumping excitedly up whenever he saw Anne coming and
exclaiming,

"Bless my soul, here's that pretty little girl again," or something
equally flattering. But Ginger saw through the scheme and scorned it.
Anne was never to know how many compliments Mr. Harrison paid her behind
her back. He certainly never paid her any to her face.

"Well, I suppose you've been back in the woods laying in a supply of
switches for tomorrow?" was his greeting as Anne came up the veranda
steps.