there, and she kept them going. The Mercers were quite new to Avonlea, having come here only two months previously.
I was sitting by the window and Wilhelmina Mercer, Maggie Henderson, Susette Cross and Georgie Hall were in a little group just before me. I wasn’t listening to their chatter at all, but presently Georgie exclaimed teasingly:
“Miss Charlotte is laughing at us. I suppose she thinks we are awfully silly to be talking about beaux.”
The truth was that I was simply smiling over some very pretty thoughts that had come to me about the roses which were climbing over Mary Gillespie’s sill. I meant to inscribe them in the little blank book when I went home. Georgie’s speech brought me back to harsh realities with a jolt. It hurt me, as such speeches always did.
“Didn’t you ever have a beau, Miss Holmes?” said Wilhelmina laughingly.
Just as it happened, a silence had fallen over the room for a moment, and everybody in it heard Wilhelmina’s question.
I really do not know what got into me and possessed me. I have never been able to account for what I said and did, because I am naturally a truthful person and hate all deceit. It seemed to me that I simply could not say “No” to Wilhelmina before
