Mr. Allan thinks so too. Mrs. Lynde says he just worships the ground she
treads on and she doesn t really think it right for a minister to
set his affections so much on a mortal being. But then, Diana, even
ministers are human and have their besetting sins just like everybody
else. I had such an interesting talk with Mrs. Allan about besetting
sins last Sunday afternoon. There are just a few things it s proper
to talk about on Sundays and that is one of them. My besetting sin is
imagining too much and forgetting my duties. I m striving very hard
to overcome it and now that I m really thirteen perhaps I ll get on
better.
In four more years we ll be able to put our hair up, said Diana.
Alice Bell is only sixteen and she is wearing hers up, but I think
that s ridiculous. I shall wait until I m seventeen.
If I had Alice Bell s crooked nose, said Anne decidedly, I
wouldn t--but there! I won t say what I was going to because it was
extremely uncharitable. Besides, I was comparing it with my own nose and
that s vanity. I m afraid I think too much about my nose ever since I
heard that compliment about it long ago. It really is a great comfort to
me. Oh, Diana, look, there s a rabbit. That s something to remember for
our woods composition. I really think the woods are just as lovely in
winter as in summer. They re so white and still, as if they were asleep
and dreaming pretty dreams.
I won t mind writing that composition when its time comes, sighed
Diana. I can manage to write about the woods, but the one we re to
hand in Monday is terrible. The idea of Miss Stacy telling us to write a
story out of our own heads!
Why, it s as easy as wink, said Anne.
It s easy for you because you have an imagination, retorted Diana,
but what would you do if you had been born without one? I suppose you
have your composition all done?
Anne nodded, trying hard not to look virtuously complacent and failing
miserably.
I wrote it last Monday evening. It s called The Jealous Rival; or In
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