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XXI. Sweet Miss Lavendar
CharlottatheFourthisthelastoftheBowmangirls,andthebest.TheotherCharlottasalwaysletmeseethattheythoughtitsillyofmetopretendthingsbutCharlottatheFourthneverdoes,nomatterwhatshemayreallythink.Idon’tcarewhatpeoplethinkaboutmeiftheydon’tletmeseeit.”
“Well,”saidDianalookingregretfullyatthesettingsun.“IsupposewemustgoifwewanttogettoMr.Kimball’sbeforedark.We’vehadalovelytime,MissLewis.”
“Won’tyoucomeagaintoseeme?”pleadedMissLavendar.
TallAnneputherarmaboutthelittlelady.
“Indeedweshall,”shepromised.“Nowthatwehavediscoveredyouwe’llwearoutourwelcomecomingtoseeyou.Yes,wemustgo...‘wemusttearourselvesaway,’asPaulIrvingsayseverytimehecomestoGreenGables.”
“PaulIrving?”TherewasasubtlechangeinMissLavendar’svoice.“Whoishe?Ididn’tthinktherewasanybodyofthatnameinAvonlea.”
Annefeltvexedatherownheedlessness.ShehadforgottenaboutMissLavendar’soldromancewhenPaul’snameslippedout.
“Heisalittlepupilofmine,”sheexplainedslowly.“HecamefromBostonlastyeartolivewithhisgrandmother,Mrs.Irvingoftheshoreroad.”
“IsheStephenIrving’sson?”MissLavendarasked,bendingoverhernamesakebordersothatherfacewashidden.
“Yes.”
“I’mgoingtogiveyougirlsabunchoflavendarapiece,”saidMissLavendarbrightly,asifshehadnotheardtheanswertoherquestion.“It’sverysweet,don’tyouthink?Motheralwayslovedit.Sheplantedtheseborderslongago.
