Soon the far-away slopes and hills were dim and wraith-like through their gauzy scarfing, as if pale autumn had flung a misty bridal veil over her hair and was waiting for her wintry bridegroom.

So they had a white Christmas after all, and a very pleasant day it was.

In the forenoon letters and gifts came from Miss Lavendar and Paul; Anne opened them in the cheerful Green Gables kitchen, which was filled with what Davy, sniffing in ecstasy, called "pretty smells." "Miss Lavendar and Mr.Irving are settled in their new home now," reported Anne.

"I am sure Miss Lavendar is perfectly happy--I know it by the general tone of her letter--but there's a note from Charlotta the Fourth.

She doesn't like Boston at all, and she is fearfully homesick.
Miss Lavendar wants me to go through to Echo Lodge some day while I'm home and light a fire to air it, and see that the cushions aren't getting moldy.