wavy, my cheeks were pink, and the lines could hardly be seen at
all, though possibly that was because of the dim light. I always
have my mirror hung in the darkest corner of my room. Nancy
cannot imagine why. I know the lines are there, of course; but
when they don't show very plain I forget that they are there.

We had a large Sewing Circle, young and old alike attending. I
really cannot say I ever enjoyed the meetings--at least not up to
that time--although I went religiously because I thought it my
duty to go. The married women talked so much of their husbands
and children, and of course I had to be quiet on those topics;
and the young girls talked in corner groups about their beaux,
and stopped it when I joined them, as if they felt sure that an
old maid who had never had a beau couldn't understand at all. As
for the other old maids, they talked gossip about every one, and
I did not like that either. I knew the minute my back was turned
they would fasten into me and hint that I used hair-dye and
declare it was perfectly ridiculous for a woman of FIFTY to wear
a pink muslin dress with lace-trimmed frills.

There was a full attendance that day, for we were getting ready
for a sale of fancy work in aid of parsonage repairs. The young
girls were merrier and noisier than usual. Wilhelmina Mercer was
there, and she kept them going. The Mercers were quite new to
Avonlea, having come here only two months previously.

I was sitting by the window and Wilhelmina Mercer, Maggie
Henderson, Susette Cross and Georgie Hall were in a little group
just before me. I wasn't listening to their chatter at all, but
presently Georgie exclaimed teasingly: