MY fault. I've talked and argued till I'm tired. I declare to
you, Amelia, I am terribly disappointed. I'd set my heart on
Sara's marrying Lige--and now to think she won't!"

"She is a very foolish girl," said Mrs. Jonas, judicially. "If
Lige Baxter isn't good enough for her, who is?"

"And he's so well off," said Mrs. Eben, "and does such a good
business, and is well spoken of by every one. And that lovely
new house of his at Newbridge, with bay windows and hardwood
floors! I've dreamed and dreamed of seeing Sara there as
mistress."

"Maybe you'll see her there yet," said Mrs. Jonas, who always
took a hopeful view of everything, even of Sara's contrariness.
But she felt discouraged, too. Well, she had done her best.

If Lige Baxter's broth was spoiled it was not for lack of cooks.
Every Andrews in Avonlea had been trying for two years to bring
about a match between him and Sara, and Mrs. Jonas had borne her
part valiantly.

Mrs. Eben's despondent reply was cut short by the appearance of
Sara herself. The girl stood for a moment in the doorway and
looked with a faintly amused air at her aunts. She knew quite
well that they had been discussing her, for Mrs. Jonas, who
carried her conscience in her face, looked guilty, and Mrs. Eben
had not been able wholly to banish her aggrieved expression.

Sara put away her books, kissed Mrs. Jonas' rosy cheek, and sat