was of two minds whether to have her cry out then and there, or wait
till she was safely in her own white room at home. Before she could
decide there was a click of heels and a silken swish on the porch floor,
and Anne found herself confronted by a lady whose appearance made her
recall a recent criticism of Mr. Harrison's on an overdressed female he
had seen in a Charlottetown store. "She looked like a head-on collision
between a fashion plate and a nightmare."

The newcomer was gorgeously arrayed in a pale blue summer silk, puffed,
frilled, and shirred wherever puff, frill, or shirring could possibly
be placed. Her head was surmounted by a huge white chiffon hat, bedecked
with three long but rather stringy ostrich feathers. A veil of pink
chiffon, lavishly sprinkled with huge black dots, hung like a flounce
from the hat brim to her shoulders and floated off in two airy streamers
behind her. She wore all the jewelry that could be crowded on one small
woman, and a very strong odor of perfume attended her.

"I am Mrs. DonNELL . . . Mrs. H. B. DonNELL," announced this vision, "and
I have come in to see you about something Clarice Almira told me when
she came home to dinner today. It annoyed me EXCESSIVELY."

"I'm sorry," faltered Anne, vainly trying to recollect any incident of
the morning connected with the Donnell children.

"Clarice Almira told me that you pronounced our name DONnell. Now, Miss
Shirley, the correct pronunciation of our name is DonNELL . . . accent on
the last syllable. I hope you'll remember this in future."

"I'll try to," gasped Anne, choking back a wild desire to laugh. "I know
by experience that it's very unpleasant to have one's name SPELLED wrong