when they found it. And superstition or not, if I find that yellow beast lurking near our baby I will whack him with the poker, Mrs. Doctor, dear.”
Mr. and Mrs. Marshall Elliott were living comfortably and harmoniously in the green house. Leslie was busy with sewing, for she and Owen were to be married at Christmas. Anne wondered what she would do when Leslie was gone.
“Changes come all the time. Just as soon as things get really nice they change,” she said with a sigh.
“The old Morgan place up at the Glen is for sale,” said Gilbert, apropos of nothing in especial.
“Is it?” asked Anne indifferently.
“Yes. Now that Mr. Morgan has gone, Mrs. Morgan wants to go to live with her children in Vancouver. She will sell cheaply, for a big place like that in a small village like the Glen will not be very easy to dispose of.”
“Well, it’s certainly a beautiful place, so it is likely she will find a purchaser,” said Anne, absently, wondering whether she should hemstitch or feather-stitch little Jem’s “short” dresses. He was to be shortened the next week, and Anne felt ready to cry at the thought of it.
“Suppose we buy it, Anne?” remarked Gilbert quietly.
Anne dropped her sewing and stared at him.
“You’re not in earnest, Gilbert?”
“Indeed I am, dear.”
