Chapter 21 - Page 2

growing almost incoherent with the violence of her emotion.

"Don't, Leslie," implored Anne, "oh, don't. I understand-- don't talk of it any more."

"I must--I must. When I knew you were going to live I vowed that I would tell you as soon as you were well--that I wouldn't go on accepting your friendship and companionship without telling you how unworthy I was of it. And I've been so afraid--it would turn you against me."

"You needn't fear that, Leslie."

"Oh, I'm so glad--so glad, Anne." Leslie clasped her brown, work-hardened hands tightly together to still their shaking. "But I want to tell you everything, now I've begun. You don't remember the first time I saw you, I suppose--it wasn't that night on the shore--"

"No, it was the night Gilbert and I came home. You were driving your geese down the hill. I should think I DO remember it! I thought you were so beautiful--I longed for weeks after to find out who you were."

"I knew who YOU were, although I had never seen either of you before. I had heard of the new doctor and his bride who were coming to live in Miss Russell's little house. I--I hated you that very moment, Anne."

"I felt the resentment in your eyes--then I doubted--I thought I must be mistaken--because WHY should it be?"

"It was because you looked so happy. Oh, you'll agree with me now that I AM a hateful beast--to hate another woman just because she was happy,--and when her happiness didn't take anything from me! That was why I never went to see you. I knew quite well I ought to go--even our simple Four Winds customs demanded that. But I couldn't. I used to watch you from my window--I could see you and your husband strolling about your garden in the evening--or you running down the poplar lane to meet him. And it hurt me. And yet in another way I wanted to go over. I felt that, if I were not so miserable, I could have liked you and found in you what I've never had in my life--an intimate, REAL friend of my own age. And then you remember that night at the shore? You were afraid I would think you crazy. You must have thought _I_ was."

"No, but I couldn't understand you, Leslie. One moment you drew me to you--the next you pushed me back."

"I was very unhappy that evening. I had had a hard day. Dick had been very--very hard to manage that day. Generally he is quite good-natured and easily controlled, you know, Anne. But some days he is very different. I was so heartsick--I ran away to the shore as soon as he went to sleep. It was my only refuge. I sat there thinking of how my poor father had ended his life, and wondering if I wouldn't be driven to it some day. Oh, my heart was full of black thoughts! And then you came dancing along the cove like a glad, light-hearted child. I--I hated you more then than I've ever done since. And yet I craved your friendship. The one feeling swayed me one moment; the other feeling the next. When I