Chapter XXXIII. The Hotel Concert

           

           Putonyourwhiteorgandy,byallmeans,Anne,”advisedDianadecidedly.

           Theyweretogetherintheeastgablechamber;outsideitwasonlytwilight—alovelyyellowish-greentwilightwithaclear-bluecloudlesssky.Abigroundmoon,slowlydeepeningfromherpallidlusterintoburnishedsilver,hungovertheHauntedWood;theairwasfullofsweetsummersounds—sleepybirdstwittering,freakishbreezes,farawayvoicesandlaughter.ButinAnne’sroomtheblindwasdrawnandthelamplighted,foranimportanttoiletwasbeingmade.

           Theeastgablewasaverydifferentplacefromwhatithadbeenonthatnightfouryearsbefore,whenAnnehadfeltitsbarenesspenetratetothemarrowofherspiritwithitsinhospitablechill.Changeshadcreptin,Marillaconnivingatthemresignedly,untilitwasassweetanddaintyanestasayounggirlcoulddesire.

           ThevelvetcarpetwiththepinkrosesandthepinksilkcurtainsofAnne’searlyvisionshadcertainlynevermaterialized;butherdreamshadkeptpacewithhergrowth,anditisnotprobableshelamentedthem.Thefloorwascoveredwithaprettymatting,andthecurtainsthatsoftenedthehighwindowandflutteredinthevagrantbreezeswereofpale-greenartmuslin.Thewalls,hungnotwithgoldandsilverbrocadetapestry,butwithadaintyapple-blossompaper,wereadornedwithafewgoodpicturesgivenAnnebyMrs.Allan.MissStacy’sphotographoccupiedtheplaceofhonor,andAnnemadeasentimentalpointofkeepingfreshflowersonthebracketunderit.Tonightaspikeofwhiteliliesfaintlyperfumedtheroomlikethedreamofafragrance.

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