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"Yes, indeed. I shall never forget it," smiled Anne,
touching the heavy braid of hair that was wound about her
shapely head. "I laugh a little now sometimes when I
think what a worry my hair used to be to me--but I don't
laugh MUCH, because it was a very real trouble then.
I did suffer terribly over my hair and my freckles.
My freckles are really gone; and people are nice enough
to tell me my hair is auburn now--all but Josie Pye.
She informed me yesterday that she really thought it
was redder than ever, or at least my black dress made
it look redder, and she asked me if people who had red
hair ever got used to having it. Marilla, I've almost
decided to give up trying to like Josie Pye. I've made
what I would once have called a heroic effort to like her,
but Josie Pye won't BE liked."
"Josie is a Pye," said Marilla sharply, "so she can't help
being disagreeable. I suppose people of that kind serve
some useful purpose in society, but I must say I don't
know what it is any more than I know the use of thistles.
Is Josie going to teach?"
"No, she is going back to Queen's next year. So are
Moody Spurgeon and Charlie Sloane. Jane and Ruby are
going to teach and they have both got schools--Jane at
Newbridge and Ruby at some place up west."
"Gilbert Blythe is going to teach too, isn't he?"
"Yes"--briefly.
"What a nice-looking fellow he is," said Marilla absently.
"I saw him in church last Sunday and he seemed so tall and manly.
He looks a lot like his father did at the same age. John Blythe
was a nice boy. We used to be real good friends, he and I.
People called him my beau."
Anne looked up with swift interest.
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