Anne of the Island (Anne of Green Gables, #3)

by L.M. Montgomery

Besides, I’ve been feeling a little blue—just a pale, elusive azure. It isn’t serious enough for anything darker.

“Heather!” exclaimed Anne. “Heather doesn’t grow in America, does it?” “There are just two patches of it in the whole continent,” said Phil, “one right here in the park, and one somewhere else in Nova Scotia, I forget where. The famous Highland Regiment, the Black Watch, camped here one year, and, when the men shook out the straw of their beds in the spring, some seeds of heather took root.”