The A.V.I.S. gave a farewell party in honor of Anne and Gilbert one evening at the home of Josie Pye, choosing that place, partly because Mr. Pye’s house was large and convenient, partly because it was strongly suspected that the Pye girls would have nothing to do with the affair if their offer of the house for the party was not accepted.  It was a very pleasant little time, for the Pye girls were gracious, and said and did nothing to mar the harmony of the occasion—­which was not according to their wont.  Josie was unusually amiable—­so much so that she even remarked condescendingly to Anne,

“Your new dress is rather becoming to you, Anne.  Really, you look almost pretty in it.”

“How kind of you to say so,” responded Anne, with dancing eyes.  Her sense of humor was developing, and the speeches that would have hurt her at fourteen were becoming merely food for amusement now.  Josie suspected that Anne was laughing at her behind those wicked eyes; but she contented herself with whispering to Gertie, as they went downstairs, that Anne Shirley would put on more airs than ever now that she was going to college—­you’d see!

All the “old crowd” was there, full of mirth and zest and youthful lightheartedness.  Diana Barry, rosy and dimpled, shadowed by the faithful Fred; Jane Andrews, neat and sensible and plain; Ruby Gillis, looking her handsomest and brightest in a cream silk blouse, with red geraniums in her golden hair; Gilbert Blythe and Charlie Sloane, both trying to keep as near the elusive Anne as possible; Carrie Sloane, looking pale and melancholy because, so it was reported, her father would not allow Oliver Kimball to come near the place; Moody Spurgeon MacPherson, whose round face and objectionable ears were as round and objectionable as ever; and Billy Andrews, who sat in a corner all the evening, chuckled when any one spoke to him, and watched Anne Shirley with a grin of pleasure on his broad, freckled countenance.

Anne had known beforehand of the party, but she had not known that she and Gilbert were, as the founders of the Society, to be presented with a very complimentary “address” and “tokens of respect”—­in her case a volume of Shakespeare’s plays, in Gilbert’s a fountain pen.  She was so taken by surprise and pleased by the nice things said in the address, read in Moody Spurgeon’s most solemn and ministerial tones, that the tears quite drowned the sparkle of her big gray eyes.  She had worked hard and faithfully for the A.V.I.S., and it warmed the cockles of her heart that the members appreciated her efforts so sincerely.  And they were all so nice and friendly and jolly—­even the Pye girls had their merits; at that moment Anne loved all the world.