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 “I couldn’t,” said poor Janet pathetically. “You see, Anne, I’ve always been awful fond of John. He might just as well keep coming as not, for there was never anybody else I’d want, so it didn’t matter.”

“But it might have made him speak out like a man,” urged Anne.

Janet shook her head.

“No, I guess not. I was afraid to try, anyway, for fear he’d think I meant it and just go. I suppose I’m a poor-spirited creature, but that is how I feel. And I can’t help it.”

“Oh, you could help it, Janet. It isn’t too late yet. Take a firm stand. Let that man know you are not going to endure his shillyshallying any longer. ’ll back you up.”

“I dunno,” said Janet hopelessly. “I dunno if I could ever get up enough spunk. Things have drifted so long. But I’ll think it over.”

Anne felt that she was disappointed in John Douglas. She had liked him so well, and she had not thought him the sort of man who would play fast and loose with a woman’s feelings for twenty years. He certainly should be taught a lesson, and Anne felt vindictively that she would enjoy seeing the process. Therefore she was delighted when Janet told her, as they were going to prayer-meeting the next night, that she meant to show some “sperrit.”

“I’ll let John Douglas see I’m not going to be trodden on any longer.”

“You are perfectly right,” said Anne emphatically.