Leslie Ford

"I love the red roses,” said Leslie. “Anne likes the pink ones best, and Gilbert likes the white. But I want the crimson ones. They satisfy some craving in me as no other flower does.”
“These roses are very late—they bloom after all the others have gone—and they hold all the warmth and soul of the summer come to fruition,” said Owen, plucking some of the glowing, half-opened buds.
“The rose is the flower of love—the world has acclaimed it so for centuries. The pink roses are love hopeful and expectant—the white roses are love dead or forsaken—but the red roses—ah, Leslie, what are the red roses?”
“Love triumphant,” said Leslie in a low voice.
“Yes—love triumphant and perfect. Leslie, you know—you understand. I have loved you from the first. And I KNOW you love me—I don’t need to ask you. But I want to hear you say it—my darling—my darling!”
-Anne's House of Dreams, L M Montgomery
 
With red crystals for the rose of love triumphant and gold for her magnificent golden hair, the Leslie Ford is for Anne's close friend of adulthood, met soon after her marriage and move to Glen St. Mary.