couldn’t in real life. But here in the woods I like best to imagine quite different things . . . I’m a dryad living in an old pine, or a little brown wood-elf hiding under a crinkled leaf. That white birch you caught me kissing is a sister of mine. The only difference is, she’s a tree and I’m a girl, but that’s no real difference. Where are you going, Diana?”
“Down to the Dicksons. I promised to help Alberta cut out her new dress. Can’t you walk down in the evening, Anne, and come home with me?”
“I might . . . since Fred Wright is away in town,” said Anne with a rather too innocent face.
Diana blushed, tossed her head, and walked on. She did not look offended, however.
Anne fully intended to go down to the Dicksons’ that evening, but she did not. When she arrived at Green Gables she found a state of affairs which banished every other thought from her mind. Marilla met her in the yard . . . a wild-eyed Marilla.
“Anne, Dora is lost!”
“Dora! Lost!” Anne looked at Davy, who was swinging on the yard gate, and detected merriment in his eyes. “Davy, do you know where she is?”
“No, I don’t,” said Davy stoutly. “I haven’t seen her since dinner time, cross my heart.”
“I’ve been away ever since one o’clock,” said Marilla. “Thomas Lynde took sick all of a sudden and Rachel sent up for me to go at once. When I left here Dora was playing with her doll in the kitchen and Davy was making mud pies behind the barn. I only
