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I hope it isn't wicked of me, Marilla, but really the thought of Moody Spurgeon being a minister makes me laugh.

He's such a funny-looking boy with that big fat face, and his little blue eyes, and his ears sticking out like flaps.

But perhaps he will be more intellectual looking when he grows up.

Charlie Sloane says he's going to go into politics and be a member of Parliament, but Mrs. Lynde says he'll never succeed at that, because the Sloanes are all honest people, and it's only rascals that get on in politics nowadays."

"What is Gilbert Blythe going to be?" queried Marilla, seeing that Anne was opening her Caesar.

"I don't happen to know what Gilbert Blythe's ambition in life is-if he has any," said Anne scornfully.

There was open rivalry between Gilbert and Anne now.

Previously the rivalry had been rather onesided, but there was no longer any doubt that Gilbert was as determined to be first in class as Anne was.

He was a foeman worthy of her steel.

The other members of the class tacitly acknowledged their superiority, and never dreamed of trying to compete with them.

Since the day by the pond when she had refused to listen to his plea for forgiveness, Gilbert, save for the aforesaid determined rivalry, had evinced no recognition whatever of the existence of Anne Shirley.

He talked and jested with the other girls, exchanged books and puzzles with them, discussed lessons and plans, sometimes walked home with one or the other of them from prayer meeting or Debating Club.

But Anne Shirley he simply ignored, and Anne found out that it is not pleasant to be ignored.

It was in vain that she told herself with a toss of her head that she did not care.

Deep down in her wayward, feminine little heart she knew that she did care, and that if she had that chance of the Lake of Shining Waters again she would answer very differently.

All at once, as it seemed, and to her secret dismay, she found that the old resentment she had cherished against him was gone-gone just when she most needed its sustaining power.

It was in vain that she recalled every incident and emotion of that memorable occasion and tried to feel the old satisfying anger.

That day by the pond had witnessed its last spasmodic flicker.

Anne realized that she had forgiven and forgotten without knowing it.

But it was too late.

And at least neither Gilbert nor anybody else, not even Diana, should ever suspect how sorry she was and how much she wished she hadn't been so proud and horrid! She determined to "shroud her feelings in deepest oblivion," and it may be stated here and now that she did it, so successfully that Gilbert, who possibly was not quite so indifferent as he seemed, could not console himself with any belief that Anne felt his retaliatory scorn.

The only poor comfort he had was that she snubbed Charlie Sloane, unmercifully, continually, and undeservedly.

Otherwise the winter passed away in a round of pleasant duties and studies.

For Anne the days slipped by like golden beads on the necklace of the year.

She was happy, eager, interested; there were lessons to be learned and honor to be won; delightful books to read; new pieces to be practiced for the Sunday-school choir; pleasant Saturday afternoons at the manse with Mrs. Allan; and then, almost before Anne realized it, spring had come again to Green Gables and all the world was abloom once more.

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