"Well, I hope you'll repent to good purpose," said Marilla
severely, "and that you've got your eyes opened to where your
vanity has led you, Anne. Goodness knows what's to be done. I
suppose the first thing is to give your hair a good washing and
see if that will do any good."
Accordingly, Anne washed her hair, scrubbing it vigorously with
soap and water, but for all the difference it made she might as
well have been scouring its original red. The peddler had
certainly spoken the truth when he declared that the dye wouldn't
wash off, however his veracity might be impeached in other
respects.
"Oh, Marilla, what shall I do?" questioned Anne in tears.
"I can never live this down. People have pretty well forgotten
my other mistakes--the liniment cake and setting Diana drunk and
flying into a temper with Mrs. Lynde. But they'll never forget this.
They will think I am not respectable. Oh, Marilla, `what a tangled
web we weave when first we practice to deceive.' That is poetry,
but it is true. And oh, how Josie Pye will laugh! Marilla, I CANNOT
face Josie Pye. I am the unhappiest girl in Prince Edward Island."
Anne's unhappiness continued for a week. During that time she
went nowhere and shampooed her hair every day. Diana alone of
outsiders knew the fatal secret, but she promised solemnly never
to tell, and it may be stated here and now that she kept her
word. At the end of the week Marilla said decidedly:
"It's no use, Anne. That is fast dye if ever there was any.
Your hair must be cut off; there is no other way. You can't go
out with it looking like that."
Anne's lips quivered, but she realized the bitter truth of
Marilla's remarks. With a dismal sigh she went for the scissors.
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