A New Interest in Life

THE next afternoon Anne, bending over her patchwork at the
kitchen window, happened to glance out and beheld Diana down by
the Dryad's Bubble beckoning mysteriously. In a trice Anne was
out of the house and flying down to the hollow, astonishment and
hope struggling in her expressive eyes. But the hope faded when
she saw Diana's dejected countenance.

"Your mother hasn't relented?" she gasped.

Diana shook her head mournfully.

"No; and oh, Anne, she says I'm never to play with you again.
I've cried and cried and I told her it wasn't your fault, but it
wasn't any use. I had ever such a time coaxing her to let me
come down and say good-bye to you. She said I was only to stay
ten minutes and she's timing me by the clock."

"Ten minutes isn't very long to say an eternal farewell in," said
Anne tearfully. "Oh, Diana, will you promise faithfully never to
forget me, the friend of your youth, no matter what dearer
friends may caress thee?"

"Indeed I will," sobbed Diana, "and I'll never have another bosom
friend--I don't want to have. I couldn't love anybody as I love
you."

"Oh, Diana," cried Anne, clasping her hands, "do you LOVE me?"

"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know that?"

"No." Anne drew a long breath. "I thought you LIKED me of course
but I never hoped you LOVED me. Why, Diana, I didn't think
anybody could love me. Nobody ever has loved me since I can
remember. Oh, this is wonderful! It's a ray of light which will
forever shine on the darkness of a path severed from thee, Diana.
Oh, just say it once again."