“‘No, I couldn’t,’ he said soberly.  ’I tried to be something else for a long time—­I didn’t want to be a minister.  But I came to see at last that it was the work given me to do—­and God helping me, I shall try to do it.’

“His voice was low and reverent.  I thought that he would do his work and do it well and nobly; and happy the woman fitted by nature and training to help him do it.  She would be no feather, blown about by every fickle wind of fancy.  She would always know what hat to put on.  Probably she would have only one.  Ministers never have much money.  But she wouldn’t mind having one hat or none at all, because she would have Jonas.

“Anne Shirley, don’t you dare to say or hint or think that I’ve fallen in love with Mr. Blake.  Could I care for a lank, poor, ugly theologue—­named Jonas?  As Uncle Mark says, ’It’s impossible, and what’s more it’s improbable.’

“Good night, Phil.”

“P.S.  It is impossible—­but I am horribly afraid it’s true.  I’m happy and wretched and scared.  He can never care for me, I know.  Do you think I could ever develop into a passable minister’s wife, Anne?  And would they expect me to lead in prayer?  P G.”

Chapter XXV

Enter Prince Charming

“I’m contrasting the claims of indoors and out,” said Anne, looking from the window of Patty’s Place to the distant pines of the park.

“I’ve an afternoon to spend in sweet doing nothing, Aunt Jimsie.  Shall I spend it here where there is a cosy fire, a plateful of delicious russets, three purring and harmonious cats, and two impeccable china dogs with green noses?  Or shall I go to the park, where there is the lure of gray woods and of gray water lapping on the harbor rocks?”

“If I was as young as you, I’d decide in favor of the park,” said Aunt Jamesina, tickling Joseph’s yellow ear with a knitting needle.

“I thought that you claimed to be as young as any of us, Aunty,” teased Anne.

“Yes, in my soul.  But I’ll admit my legs aren’t as young as yours.  You go and get some fresh air, Anne.  You look pale lately.”

“I think I’ll go to the park,” said Anne restlessly.  “I don’t feel like tame domestic joys today.  I want to feel alone and free and wild.  The park will be empty, for every one will be at the football match.”

“Why didn’t you go to it?”

“’Nobody axed me, sir, she said’—­at least, nobody but that horrid little Dan Ranger.  I wouldn’t go anywhere with him; but rather than hurt his poor little tender feelings I said I wasn’t going to the game at all.  I don’t mind.  I’m not in the mood for football today somehow.”

“You go and get some fresh air,” repeated Aunt Jamesina, “but take your umbrella, for I believe it’s going to rain.  I’ve rheumatism in my leg.”

“Only old people should have rheumatism, Aunty.”