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She had a marvelously flexible voice and wonderful power of expression; the audience went wild over her selection.

Anne, forgetting all about herself and her troubles for the time, listened with rapt and shining eyes; but when the recitation ended she suddenly put her hands over her face.

She could never get up and recite after that-never.

Had she ever thought she could recite? Oh, if she were only back at Green Gables!

At this unpropitious moment her name was called.

Somehow Anne-who did not notice the rather guilty little start of surprise the white-lace girl gave, and would not have understood the subtle compliment implied therein if she had-got on her feet, and moved dizzily out to the front.

She was so pale that Diana and Jane, down in the audience, clasped each other's hands in nervous sympathy.

Anne was the victim of an overwhelming attack of stage fright.

Often as she had recited in public, she had never before faced such an audience as this, and the sight of it paralyzed her energies completely.

Everything was so strange, so brilliant, so bewildering-the rows of ladies in evening dress, the critical faces, the whole atmosphere of wealth and culture about her.

Very different this from the plain benches at the Debating Club, filled with the homely, sympathetic faces of friends and neighbors.

These people, she thought, would be merciless critics.

Perhaps, like the white-lace girl, they anticipated amusement from her "rustic" efforts.

She felt hopelessly, helplessly ashamed and miserable.

Her knees trembled, her heart fluttered, a horrible faintness came over her; not a word could she utter, and the next moment she would have fled from the platform despite the humiliation which, she felt, must ever after be her portion if she did so.

But suddenly, as her dilated, frightened eyes gazed out over the audience, she saw Gilbert Blythe away at the back of the room, bending forward with a smile on his face-a smile which seemed to Anne at once triumphant and taunting.

In reality it was nothing of the kind.

Gilbert was merely smiling with appreciation of the whole affair in general and of the effect produced by Anne's slender white form and spiritual face against a background of palms in particular.

Josie Pye, whom he had driven over, sat beside him, and her face certainly was both triumphant and taunting.

But Anne did not see Josie, and would not have cared if she had.

She drew a long breath and flung her head up proudly, courage and determination tingling over her like an electric shock.

She WOULD NOT fail before Gilbert Blythe-he should never be able to laugh at her, never, never! Her fright and nervousness vanished; and she began her recitation, her clear, sweet voice reaching to the farthest corner of the room without a tremor or a break.

Self-possession was fully restored to her, and in the reaction from that horrible moment of powerlessness she recited as she had never done before.

When she finished there were bursts of honest applause.

Anne, stepping back to her seat, blushing with shyness and delight, found her hand vigorously clasped and shaken by the stout lady in pink silk.

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