Chapter XVII. A New Interest in Life

           ThenextafternoonAnne,bendingoverherpatchworkatthekitchenwindow,happenedtoglanceoutandbeheldDianadownbytheDryad’sBubblebeckoningmysteriously.InatriceAnnewasoutofthehouseandflyingdowntothehollow,astonishmentandhopestrugglinginherexpressiveeyes.ButthehopefadedwhenshesawDiana’sdejectedcountenance.

           “Yourmotherhasn’trelented?”shegasped.

           Dianashookherheadmournfully.

           “No;andoh,Anne,shesaysI’mnevertoplaywithyouagain.I’vecriedandcriedandItoldheritwasn’tyourfault,butitwasn’tanyuse.Ihadeversuchatimecoaxinghertoletmecomedownandsaygood-byetoyou.ShesaidIwasonlytostaytenminutesandshe’stimingmebytheclock.”

           “Tenminutesisn’tverylongtosayaneternalfarewellin,”saidAnnetearfully.“Oh,Diana,willyoupromisefaithfullynevertoforgetme,thefriendofyouryouth,nomatterwhatdearerfriendsmaycaressthee?”

           “IndeedIwill,”sobbedDiana,“andI’llneverhaveanotherbosomfriend—Idon’twanttohave.Icouldn’tloveanybodyasIloveyou.”

           “Oh,Diana,”criedAnne,claspingherhands,“doyouloveme?”

           “Why,ofcourseIdo.Didn’tyouknowthat?”

           “No.”Annedrewalongbreath.“IthoughtyoulikedmeofcoursebutIneverhopedyoulovedme.Why,Diana,Ididn’tthinkanybodycouldloveme.NobodyeverhaslovedmesinceIcanremember.Oh,thisiswonderful!It’sarayoflightwhichwillforevershineonthedarknessofapathseveredfromthee,Diana.Oh,justsayitonceagain.