Anne of Windy Poplars

Chapter 3

At two o’clock Mr. James Grand called. Mr. Grand was the chairman of the High School board of trustees and had matters of importance to talk of, which he wished to discuss fully before he left on Monday to attend an educational conference in Kingsport. Could he come to Windy Poplars in the evening? asked Anne. Unfortunately he couldn’t.

Mr. Grand was a good sort of man in his own fashion, but Anne had long ago found out that he must be handled with gloves. Moreover, Anne was very anxious to get him on her side in a battle royal over new equipment that was looming up. She went out to the twins.

“Darlings, will you play nicely out in the back yard while I have a little talk with Mr. Grand? I won’t be very long... and then we’ll have an afternoon-tea picnic on the banks of the pond... and I’ll teach you to blow soap-bubbles with red dye in them... the loveliest things!”

“Will you give us a quarter apiece if we behave?” demanded Gerald.

“No, Gerald dear,” said Anne firmly, “I’m not going to bribe you. I know you are going to be good, just because I ask you, as a gentleman should.”

“We’ll be good, Miss Shirley,” promised Gerald solemnly.

“Awful good,” echoed Geraldine, with equal solemnity.

It is possible they would have kept their promise if Ivy Trent had not arrived almost as soon as Anne was closeted with Mr. Grand in the parlor. But Ivy Trent did arrive and the Raymond twins hated Ivy Trent... the impeccable Ivy Trent who never did anything wrong and always looked as if she had just stepped out of a band-box.

On this particular afternoon there was no doubt that Ivy Trent had come over to show off her beautiful new brown boots and her sash and shoulder bows and hair bows of scarlet ribbon. Mrs. Raymond, whatever she lacked in some respects, had fairly sensible ideas about dressing children. Her charitable neighbors said she put so much money on herself that she had none to spend on the twins... and Geraldine never had a chance to parade the street in the style of Ivy Trent, who had a dress for every afternoon in the week. Mrs. Trent always arrayed her in “spotless white.” At least. Ivy was always spotless when she left home. If she were not quite so spotless when she returned that, of course, was the fault of the “jealous” children with whom the neighborhood abounded.

Geraldine was jealous. She longed for scarlet sash and shoulder bows and white embroidered dresses. What would she not have given for buttoned brown boots like those?

“How do you like my new sash and shoulder bows?” asked Ivy proudly.

“How do you like my new sash and shoulder bows?” mimicked Geraldine tauntingly.

“But you haven’t got shoulder bows,” said Ivy grandly.

“But you haven’t got shoulder bows,” squeaked Geraldine.

Ivy looked puzzled.

“I have so. Can’t you see them?”

“I have so. Can’t you see them?” mocked Geraldine, very happy in this brilliant idea of repeating everything Ivy said scornfully.

“They ain’t paid for,” said Gerald.

Ivy Trent had a temper. It showed itself in her face, which grew as red as her shoulder bows.

“They are, too. My mother always pays her bills.”

“My mother always pays her bills,” chanted Geraldine.

Ivy was uncomfortable. She didn’t know exactly how to cope with this. So she turned to Gerald, who was undoubtedly the handsomest boy on the street. Ivy had made up her mind about him.

“I came over to tell you I’m going to have you for my …