Anne Shirley fled through the porch and into the house, passing Dora without a word. Dora heaved a sigh from her station on the verandah swing. She had waited there for most of the afternoon so that she might catch Anne upon her entrance, an exercise that sorely tried Davy's patience. He went off to the barn muttering that girls were no good to play with. Dora did not agree with him, but she did not tell Davy so: she wanted very badly to have a little girl to play with.
Presently, Dora heard Anne's voice float out from the east gable window -speaking as if she were singing, but without music. Dora wondered dubiously if she hadn't better go up and ask Anne now -
"Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray --
"Why, Dora!" Anne exclaimed at the trembling little figure who had appeared on her threshold. She halted her waltz, flinging dress in her hands on the floor. Her hair was flaming and riotous, and her eyes were an unearthly, starry green. Dora shrank back.
"I want to ask you - ask you..." Poor Dora tried to look up courageously, but Anne Shirley of the radiant hair and face was tall, so very tall and slender and intimidating! "...ask ... if I could go... I mean, if you would let me come... " Dora stammered and stared nervously at Anne's frilled organdy on the rug.
"Why, of course you come can watch me get ready for the evening!" Anne cried warmly, intercepting Dora's gaze at her dress. She dashed the garment up and flung Dora into a mad little dance, whirling her about the room breathlessly. "Do you know, when I was a little girl, I always longed to watch the grown-ups get ready for a party - pull gossamer gowns over shining tresses, albeit mine own are red - "
"I thought you were going to Orchard Slope tonight, not to a party." Dora said wonderingly, when Anne set her down.
"Alas, it is but an A. V. I. S. meeting I am fated to attend, and not a fairy revelry..."
"Anne, will you take me Orchard Slope?" Dora blurted out. "Marilla says I could play with Minnie May Barry if her mother will let us."
"Oh, but isn't that Diana coming up the lane!" Anne tore from the window past Dora and downstairs again, exclaiming as she flew out the door. "Diana, whatever is wrong? I was just on my way over."
Dora heaved another sigh, and trudged down the stairs with a sinking heart.
Anne and a bevy of her friends were pacing the yard gate, arms flailing, shrill voices wailing "But he's gone and painted it blue!" Dora knew Anne had forgotten her in view of greater trauma. A tear rolled silently down her cheek: but ten feet away, Anne was weeping so profusely she could be heard from here to Orchard Slope.
Diana Barry, running indoors to fetch a fresh hankerchief, almost tripped over Dora Keith. She blinked the tears out of her large dark eyes, and looked kindly at Dora.
"Are you alright, Dora, dear?" Diana asked gently. "I haven't hurt you, have I?" She reached out to wipe away Dora's tears, but seeing her drenched hankerchief, she laughed. She brushed Dora's cheeks with her fingers instead.
Dora shook her head peremptorily. Here was a grown-up she wasn't afraid of. Diana rose to go, and Dora ventured shyly, "Oh, Diana, could you tell me - if Minnie May - "
"Minnie May is down in the spruce barrens, playing by herself. Of course you must go and play with her - she's dreadful lonesome, she's taken to talking to trees and such," Diana finished with another rosy laugh.
Dora tripped down Lover's Lane and through what Anne Shirley called "The Haunted Wood", unshaken by any fear of phantoms. She found Minnie May Barry in the stumped clearing that used to be Idlewild.
"Oh, I'm so glad you've come to Green Gables!" Minnie May hailed her joyously. "Mother says I should have a little girl to play with, and there are no other children near us. I used to play with Sally Bell - these woods belong to her uncle - but she moved up the road to stay with an aunt when her cousin got married. Stella Fletcher is one of my part'cular friends, but she lives all the way on the hill by the graveyard. Her cousin is courting Anne, though, so she can come with him to our side of the pond pretty of'en. Anyhow I want to be friends with you, because you are so pretty. I heard Mrs. Lynde says you're the prettiest girl of our age in Avonlea."
"Oh, no," Dora protested, as she began twisting Minnie May's hair into two black braids. "I think you are very pretty, and 'sides, you can sing real well."
"Tisn't me - 'tis just Diana. Aunt Jo used to send her to music lessons, and Diana would teach me all the new songs she learned. But she hasn't got time to teach me lately, and Mother says I musn't bother Diana when she's seeing Fred Wright. That's how it is when you're grown up, " Minnie May whispered conspiratorially. " you don't notice anyone but your young man."
"Do you think that's how Anne doesn't notice me?" Dora asked. "But she pays attention to Davy." And then Dora proceeded to tell Minnie May all her grievances, and vice versa, and by sunset the two girls were firm friends.
Dora was buoyant when she went home that night. Anne's violent sobs from the east gable made Marilla grim, and even Davy quiet and morose, but nothing could dampen Dora's spirits. She had a friend of her own!