always wore her amethyst brooch to church. She would have thought it
rather sacrilegious to leave it off--as bad as forgetting her Bible or
her collection dime. That amethyst brooch was Marilla s most treasured
possession. A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother who in turn
had bequeathed it to Marilla. It was an old-fashioned oval, containing
a braid of her mother s hair, surrounded by a border of very fine
amethysts. Marilla knew too little about precious stones to realize how
fine the amethysts actually were; but she thought them very beautiful
and was always pleasantly conscious of their violet shimmer at her
throat, above her good brown satin dress, even although she could not
see it.
Anne had been smitten with delighted admiration when she first saw that
brooch.
Oh, Marilla, it s a perfectly elegant brooch. I don t know how you
can pay attention to the sermon or the prayers when you have it on. I
couldn t, I know. I think amethysts are just sweet. They are what I used
to think diamonds were like. Long ago, before I had ever seen a diamond,
I read about them and I tried to imagine what they would be like. I
thought they would be lovely glimmering purple stones. When I saw a
real diamond in a lady s ring one day I was so disappointed I cried. Of
course, it was very lovely but it wasn t my idea of a diamond. Will you
let me hold the brooch for one minute, Marilla? Do you think amethysts
can be the souls of good violets?
CHAPTER XIV. Anne s Confession
ON the Monday evening before the picnic Marilla came down from her room
with a troubled face.
Anne, she said to that small personage, who was shelling peas by the
spotless table and singing, Nelly of the Hazel Dell with a vigor and
expression that did credit to Diana s teaching, did you see anything
of my amethyst brooch? I thought I stuck it in my pincushion when I came
home from church yesterday evening, but I can t find it anywhere.
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