Chapter XVII

CHAPTER XVII
A New Interest in Life

THE next afternoon Anne, bending over her patchwork at the
kitchen window, happened to glance out and beheld Diana down by
the Dryad's Bubble beckoning mysteriously. In a trice Anne was
out of the house and flying down to the hollow, astonishment and
hope struggling in her expressive eyes. But the hope faded when
she saw Diana's dejected countenance.

"Your mother hasn't relented?" she gasped.

Diana shook her head mournfully.

"No; and oh, Anne, she says I'm never to play with you again.
I've cried and cried and I told her it wasn't your fault, but it
wasn't any use. I had ever such a time coaxing her to let me
come down and say good-bye to you. She said I was only to stay
ten minutes and she's timing me by the clock."

"Ten minutes isn't very long to say an eternal farewell in," said
Anne tearfully. "Oh, Diana, will you promise faithfully never to
forget me, the friend of your youth, no matter what dearer
friends may caress thee?"

"Indeed I will," sobbed Diana, "and I'll never have another bosom
friend--I don't want to have. I couldn't love anybody as I love
you."

"Oh, Diana," cried Anne, clasping her hands, "do you LOVE me?"

"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know that?"

"No." Anne drew a long breath. "I thought you LIKED me of course
but I never hoped you LOVED me. Why, Diana, I didn't think
anybody could love me. Nobody ever has loved me since I can
remember. Oh, this is wonderful! It's a ray of light which will
forever shine on the darkness of a path severed from thee, Diana.
Oh, just say it once again."

"I love you devotedly, Anne," said Diana stanchly, "and I always
will, you may be sure of that."

"And I will always love thee, Diana," said Anne, solemnly
extending her hand. "In the years to come thy memory will shine
like a star over my lonely life, as that last story we read
together says. Diana, wilt thou give me a lock of thy jet-black
tresses in parting to treasure forevermore?"

"Have you got anything to cut it with?" queried Diana, wiping
away the tears which Anne's affecting accents had caused to flow
afresh, and returning to practicalities.

"Yes. I've got my patchwork scissors in my apron pocket
fortunately," said Anne. She solemnly clipped one of Diana's
curls. "Fare thee well, my beloved friend. Henceforth we must
be as strangers though living side by side. But my heart will
ever be faithful to thee."

Anne stood and watched Diana out of sight, mournfully waving her
hand to the latter whenever she turned to look back. Then she
returned to the house, not a little consoled for the time being
by this romantic parting.

"It is all over," she