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It isn't modest.

Tillie Boulter was real indignant.

She took Anne's part right through and said all the scholars did too.

Anne seems real popular among them, somehow.

I never thought she'd take with them so well."

"Then you really think I'd better let her stay home," said Marilla in amazement.

"Yes.

That is I wouldn't say school to her again until she said it herself.

Depend upon it, Marilla, she'll cool off in a week or so and be ready enough to go back of her own accord, that's what, while, if you were to make her go back right off, dear knows what freak or tantrum she'd take next and make more trouble than ever.

The less fuss made the better, in my opinion.

She won't miss much by not going to school, as far as THAT goes.

Mr. Phillips isn't any good at all as a teacher.

The order he keeps is scandalous, that's what, and he neglects the young fry and puts all his time on those big scholars he's getting ready for Queen's.

He'd never have got the school for another year if his uncle hadn't been a trustee-THE trustee, for he just leads the other two around by the nose, that's what.

I declare, I don't know what education in this Island is coming to."

Mrs. Rachel shook her head, as much as to say if she were only at the head of the educational system of the Province things would be much better managed.

Marilla took Mrs. Rachel's advice and not another word was said to Anne about going back to school.

She learned her lessons at home, did her chores, and played with Diana in the chilly purple autumn twilights; but when she met Gilbert Blythe on the road or encountered him in Sunday school she passed him by with an icy contempt that was no whit thawed by his evident desire to appease her.

Even Diana's efforts as a peacemaker were of no avail.

Anne had evidently made up her mind to hate Gilbert Blythe to the end of life.

As much as she hated Gilbert, however, did she love Diana, with all the love of her passionate little heart, equally intense in its likes and dislikes.

One evening Marilla, coming in from the orchard with a basket of apples, found Anne sitting along by the east window in the twilight, crying bitterly.

"Whatever's the matter now, Anne?" she asked.

"It's about Diana," sobbed Anne luxuriously.

"I love Diana so, Marilla.

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