girls had lives to live as well as she. Did Anne mind if she
divided her share of the silver from theirs; did Alix think she
would ever want any of Mother's lace?

"I got my cards yesterday," she said one day, "I was passing the
shop, and I thought I might as well! The woman looked at me so
queerly; she said: 'Mrs. John Martin Lloyd. Are these for your
mother?' 'No,' I said, 'they're for me!' I wish you could have
seen her look. Martin says in to-day's letter that he thinks
people will say I'm his daughter, and Alix--he says that you are
to come up to visit us, and we're going to find you a fine
husband! Won't it be funny to think of your visiting ME! Oh, and
Anne--did you see what Mrs. Fairfax sent me? A great big glorious
fur coat! She said I would need it up there, and I guess I will!
It's not new, you know; she says it isn't the real present, but it
can be cut down and it will look like new."

And so on and on. The other girls listened, sympathized, and
rejoiced, but it was not always easy. They could not get Cherry to
be interested in any of their plans for week-end house-parties,
climbs, or picnics; indeed, even to themselves their own lives
seemed a trifle dull by contrast.

Anne, as usual, took her part in the summer activities of the
village; she and Alix put on their white gowns and wide hats, and
duly descended to strawberry fetes and church fairs and concerts,
and duly laughed disarmingly when old friends expressed their
pleasant suspicions of Cherry.

But Alix voiced their feelings one summer afternoon when she was