One beautiful October morning, Marilla and Anne sat in the kitchen and cut vegetables.
"Anne," Marilla began, "why don't you ask Diana to come over for afternoon tea?
I am going into town, and she can come then."
"Oh, Marilla!" Anne clasped her hands. "How perfectly lovely!
We will be like grown-ups! Can we use the teapot with the roses?"
"No, but I have some cake and raspberry cordial in the pantry you can have," Marilla replied.
Diana came over, dressed in her second-best dress.
Anne, dressed in her own second-best dress, opened the door with a very serious expression.
Together they went to the front room.
"How is your mother?" Anne asked politely, like an adult.
"She is very well, thank you. And Mr. Cuthbert is in the potato fields?" asked Diana.
"Yes, he is. Our potatoes are very good this year," replied Anne.
Abruptly her tone changed. "Oh Diana!" she burst out. "Let's go and pick some apples!"
The girls instantly stopped acting like proper ladies and ran outside to the apple orchard.
"Marilla said we can pick the rest of the apples," said Anne.
"Marilla is very kind. She also said we can have cake and raspberry cordial for tea.
I love red drinks—they just taste better, don't they?"
Later the girls went inside, and Anne went to the pantry to get the raspberry cordial.
At first she couldn't see it anywhere, but then she spotted it at the back.
Anne put the cordial on the table with a big glass.
"Please help yourself, Diana. I can't drink a thing after eating all those apples."
Diana poured herself some of the drink and sipped it.
"This is a very nice cordial, Anne," she said.
"I didn't know cordial tasted so good."
"I'm glad you like it," Anne replied. "Take as much as you want. I'll get the cake."
When Anne came back, Diana was drinking a second glass of cordial.
Diana started to drink a third glass, and Anne didn't mind.
"It's the nicest cordial I ever drank," said Diana.
"It's much nicer than Mrs. Lynde's cordial. It doesn't taste a bit like hers."
"I'm sure Marilla's cordial is nicer than Mrs. Lynde's," said Anne loyally.
"Marilla is a famous cook. She's trying to teach me, but it's hard work, Diana.
Last week," Anne continued, "Marilla told me to put some pudding sauce in the pantry and cover it.
I took the bowl of sauce into the pantry, but I forgot to cover it.
I remembered the next morning and ran to the pantry.
Diana, a mouse had drowned in the sauce!
I used a spoon to get the mouse and took it outside.
Then I was going to tell Marilla about the mouse.
But I started pretending I was a forest fairy flying through the trees, and I forgot about the mouse and the sauce.
After that Mr. and Mrs. Ross came for lunch.
We ate lunch and everything was fine until I saw Marilla coming in with plum pudding and pudding sauce, warmed up.
I remembered everything and shouted, 'Marilla, don't use the sauce. A mouse drowned in it!'
Mr. and Mrs. Ross looked at me, and I thought I would die!
Why, Diana," Anne said suddenly. "What's the matter?"
Diana stood up and then sat down, putting her hands to her head.
"I'm . . . I'm very sick," she said. "I . . . I must go home."
"No, don't go yet. You must eat some cake first."
"I must go home," Diana repeated.
"Where do you feel bad?" Anne asked.
"I'm very dizzy," said Diana.
Anne was very disappointed, but she took Diana to the Barrys' fence.
The next day Marilla sent Anne to Mrs. Lynde's house on an errand.
In a short space of time, Anne came flying back to Green Gables in tears.
"What's the matter, Anne?" Marilla said.
"Mrs. Lynde saw Diana's mother today. Mrs. Barry said that I sent Diana home drunk.
And she said I was a very wicked girl and she's never, never going to let Diana play with me again!"
"Diana was drunk?" Marilla was stunned. "Anne, are you or Mrs. Barry crazy? What did you give her?"
"Nothing but raspberry cordial," Anne said. "I never thought it made you drunk, not even if you drink three glasses like Diana did."
Marilla marched to the pantry. On the shelf was a bottle of homemade wine.
At that moment Marilla remembered that the cordial was in the cellar and not the pantry as she had told Anne.
Marilla went back into the kitchen. "Anne, you gave Diana wine instead of cordial!
Don't you know the difference between them?"
"I didn't taste the drink," said Anne. "Only Diana drank it.
And then Diana got so sick and went home.
Mrs. Barry said Diana just laughed and laughed, and then slept for hours, and had a headache all day.
Her mother smelled her breath and knew she was drunk."
"Three glasses of cordial would make you sick," Marilla said, troubled.
"But it was an accident, Anne, so don't worry. I'll talk to Mrs. Barry."
At that, Marilla left. When she came back later, she was frowning.
"Was Mrs. Barry still angry?" asked Anne.
"Mrs. Barry?" snapped Marilla. "I told her it was a mistake, but she didn't believe me.
So I told her that if my girl was so greedy, drinking three glasses of anything, I'd be punishing her!"
Marilla went into the kitchen. Anne stepped outside, and she walked determinedly to the Barrys' house and knocked on the door.
When Mrs. Barry saw it was Anne, she frowned. "What do you want?" she demanded.
Anne clasped her hands. "Oh, Mrs. Barry, please forgive me.
I did not mean to . . . to make Diana . . . drunk. How could I?
She is my best friend in the world. I thought it was raspberry cordial.
Please say that you'll let me play with Diana.
If I can't play with her, my life will be covered by a huge dark cloud of sadness."
Anne's dramatic plea had no effect on Mrs. Barry.
She said coldly, "Anne, you should go home.
You are not a good friend for Diana."
"Can't I see Diana and just say one last good-bye?" Anne asked.
"Diana is out with her father," said Mrs. Barry, shutting the door.
Anne walked back to Green Gables with her head down.
"My last hope is gone," she told Marilla, full of despair.
"I talked to Mrs. Barry, and she treated me very badly.
I can do nothing now but pray.
But I don't think that will help because even God can't change Mrs. Barry's mind."
"Anne, don't talk like that," said Marilla, trying not to laugh at Anne's theatrics.
But later Marilla couldn't help feeling pity for Anne when she saw that the child had cried herself to sleep.
"Poor little thing," Marilla whispered, kissing Anne's red cheek.