Echo Lodge was the scene of gaieties once more , and the echoes over the river were kept busy mimicking the laughter that rang in the old garden behind the spruces . `` Miss Lavendar '' had not changed , except to grow even sweeter and prettier . Paul adored her , and the companionship between them was beautiful to see . `` But I do n't call her ` mother ' just by itself , '' he explained to Anne . `` You see , THAT name belongs just to my own little mother , and I ca n't give it to any one else . You know , teacher . But I call her ` Mother Lavendar ' and I love her next best to father . I -- I even love her a LITTLE better than you , teacher . '' `` Which is just as it ought to be , '' answered Anne . Paul was thirteen now and very tall for his years . His face and eyes were as beautiful as ever , and his fancy was still like a prism , separating everything that fell upon it into rainbows . He and Anne had delightful rambles to wood and field and shore . Never were there two more thoroughly `` kindred spirits . '' Charlotta the Fourth had blossomed out into young ladyhood . She wore her hair now in an enormous pompador and had discarded the blue ribbon bows of auld lang syne , but her face was as freckled , her nose as snubbed , and her mouth and smiles as wide as ever . `` You do n't think I talk with a Yankee accent , do you , Miss Shirley , ma'am ? '' she demanded anxiously . `` I do n't notice it , Charlotta . '' `` I 'm real glad of that . They said I did at home , but I thought likely they just wanted to aggravate me .
I do n't want no XXXXX accent .
Anne Charlotta Fourth Lavendar Paul Yankee ladyhood pompador rainbows spruces