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    Chapter XXXIII

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    CHAPTER XXXIII

    The Hotel Concert

    Put on your white organdy, by all means, Anne," advised Diana decidedly.

    They were together in the east gable chamber; outside it was
    only twilight--a lovely yellowish-green twilight with a clear-blue
    cloudless sky. A big round moon, slowly deepening from her
    pallid luster into burnished silver, hung over the Haunted Wood;
    the air was full of sweet summer sounds--sleepy birds twittering,
    freakish breezes, faraway voices and laughter. But in Anne's room
    the blind was drawn and the lamp lighted, for an important toilet
    was being made.

    The east gable was a very different place from what it had been
    on that night four years before, when Anne had felt its bareness
    penetrate to the marrow of her spirit with its inhospitable chill.
    Changes had crept in, Marilla conniving at them resignedly, until
    it was as sweet and dainty a nest as a young girl could desire.

    The velvet carpet with the pink roses and the pink silk curtains
    of Anne's early visions had certainly never materialized; but her
    dreams had kept pace with her growth, and it is not probable she
    lamented them. The floor was covered with a pretty matting, and
    the curtains that softened the high window and fluttered in the
    vagrant breezes were of pale-green art muslin. The walls, hung
    not with gold and silver brocade tapestry, but with a dainty
    apple-blossom paper, were adorned with a few good pictures given
    Anne by Mrs. Allan. Miss Stacy's photograph occupied the place
    of honor, and Anne made a sentimental point of keeping fresh
    flowers on the bracket under it. Tonight a spike of white lilies
    faintly perfumed the room like the dream of a fragrance. There
    was no "mahogany furniture," but there was a white-painted
    bookcase filled with books, a cushioned wicker rocker, a toilet
    table befrilled with white muslin, a quaint, gilt-framed mirror
    with chubby pink Cupids and purple grapes painted over its arched
    top, that used to hang in the spare room, and a low white bed.

    Anne was dressing for a concert at the White Sands Hotel.
    The guests had got it up in aid of the Charlottetown hospital,
    and had hunted out all the available amateur talent in the
    surrounding districts to help it along. Bertha Sampson and

    Pearl Clay of the White Sands Baptist choir had been asked to
    sing a duet; Milton Clark of Newbridge was to give a violin solo;
    Winnie Adella Blair of Carmody was to sing a Scotch ballad; and Laura
    Spencer of Spencervale and Anne Shirley of Avonlea were to recite.

    As Anne would have said at one time, it was "an epoch in her life,"
    and she was deliciously athrill with the excitement of it.
    Matthew was in the seventh heaven of gratified pride over the
    honor conferred on his Anne
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