She was pale but smiling.
"I'm like you, Anne," she said; "I had forgotten what good times there
are in the world. Before we go to luncheon, I want to know if
Honey-Sweet's mother approves of her. I told you that her hair would
grow, you know. See!" She untied the strings and took off Honey-Sweet's
cap. Instead of a bald head with a few painted ringlets, there were wavy
golden locks of real hair. It is no use to try to express Anne's
delight. She couldn't do it herself. She laughed and cried and hugged
first Honey-Sweet, then Mrs. Patterson, then both together.
A soft wet snow was falling, and amid its whiteness and the glittering
lights and the merry bustle of the holiday crowds, the carriage turned
homeward. After such a happy day, nothing could ever be so bad again, it
seemed to Anne, as she kissed her friends good-by and ran
light-heartedly up the steps.
The gift-giving and gift-receiving and merry-making of the Christmas
holidays brought Anne back into the circle of her schoolmates. But her
troubles were not over. One afternoon early in the new year, Mrs.
Patterson and Miss Drayton came for the promised interview with
Mademoiselle Duroc.
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