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FURTHER CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA

should see through the scheme I shall be in a pretty mess.”

“Oh, Max,” I said, on the verge of tears.

“Of course,” said Max, looking meditatively into the fire, “if I were really one of the family, or had any reasonable prospect of being so, I would not mind so much. It would be all in the day’s work then. But as it is —”

Ismay got up and went out of the room.

“Oh, Max, please,” I said.

“Will you marry me, Sue?” demanded Max sternly. “If you will agree, I'll go to Halifax and beard the lion in his den unflinchingly. If necessary, I will take a black street cat to Aunt Cynthia, and swear that it is Fatima. [ll get you out of the scrape, if I have to prove that you never had Fatima, that she is safe in your possession at the present time, and that there never was such an animal as Fatima anyhow. I'll do anything, say anything — but it must be for my future wife.”

“Will nothing else content you?” I said helplessly.

“Nothing.”

I thought hard. Of course Max was acting abominably — but — but — he was really a dear fellow — and this was the twelfth time — and there was Anne Shirley! I knew in my secret soul that life would be a dreadfully dismal thing if Max were