Jane of Lantern Hill by L. M. Montgomery

forget-me-nots, and in one corner was a big, clump of early, dark red peonies. Violets and plots of red and white daisies grew under the parlor windows. In a near field cows were cropping gold-green grass and a dozen little fluffy chicks were running about. A tiny yellow bird was tilting on a spirea spray. The brown and white dog came out and followed Jane about. A funny, two-wheeled cart, such as Jane had never seen before, went by on the road, and the driver; a lank youth in overalls, waved to her as to an old friend. Jane promptly waved back with what was left of her doughnut.
    How blue and high the sky was! Jane liked the country sky. “P. E. Island is a lovely place,” thought Jane, not at all grudgingly. She picked a pink cabbage rose and shook the dew from it all over her face. Fancy washing your face with a rose! And then she remembered how she had prayed that she might not come here.
    â€œI think,” said Jane decidedly, “that I should apologize to God.”

CHAPTER 15
    â€œWe must go and buy us a house soon, duck,” said dad, jumping right into the middle of the subject, as Jane was to find was his habit.
    Jane turned it over in her mind.
    â€œIs ‘soon’ today?” she asked.
    Dad laughed.
    â€œMight as well be. This happens to be one of the days when I like myself reasonably well. We’ll start as soon as Jed brings our car.”
    Jed did not bring the car till noon so they had dinner before they set out, and Mrs. Meade gave Jane a bag of butter cookies to stay their stomachs till supper-time.
    â€œI like Mrs. Meade,” Jane told dad, a pleasant warmth filling her soul as she realized that here was somebody she did like.
    â€œShe’s the salt of the earth,” agreed dad, “even if she does think the violet ray is a girl.”
    The violet ray might have been a girl for anything Jane knew to the contrary…or cared. It was enough to know that dad and she were off in a car that would have given Frank a conniption at sight, bouncing along red roads that were at once friendly and secretive, through woods that were so gay and bridal with wild cherry trees sprinkled through them and over hills where violet cloud-shadows rolled until they seemed to vanish in little hollows filled with blue. There were houses on every side in that pleasant land and they were going to buy one…“Let’s buy a house, Jane”…just like that, as one might have said, “Let’s buy a basket.” Delightful!
    â€œAs soon as I knew you were coming I began inquiring about possible houses. I’ve heard of several. We’ll take a look at them all before we decide. What kind of a house would you like, Jane?”
    â€œWhat kind of a house can you afford?” said Jane gravely.
    Dad chuckled.
    â€œShe’s got some of the little common sense still left in the world,” he told the sky. “We can’t pay a fancy price, Jane. I’m not a plutocrat. On the other hand, neither am I on relief. I sold quite a lot of stuff last winter.”
    â€œ Peaceful Adjustments of International Difficulties ,” murmured Jane.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    Jane told him. She told him how she had liked Kenneth Howard’s picture and cut it out. But she did not tell him that grandmother had torn it, nor about the look in mother’s eyes.
    â€œSaturday Evening is a good customer of mine. But let us return to our muttons. Subject to the fluctuations of the market, what kind of a house would you like, my Jane?”
    â€œNot a big one,” said Jane, thinking of the enormous 60 Gay. “A little house…with some trees around it… young trees.”
    â€œWhite birches?” said dad. “I rather fancy a white birch or two. And a few dark green spruces for contrast. And the house must be green and white to match the trees. I’ve always wanted a green and white house.”
    â€œCouldn’t we paint it?” asked