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.” “I--I saw it this afternoon when you were away at the Aid Society,” said A…