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1When Marilla had gone Anne looked around her wistfully. The whitewashed walls were so painfully bare and staring that
2she thought they must ache over their own bareness. The floor was bare, too, except for a round braided mat in the
3middle such as Anne had never seen before. In one corner was the bed, a high, old-fashioned one, with four dark,
4low-turned posts. In the other corner was the aforesaid three-cornered table adorned with a fat, red velvet pincushion
5hard enough to turn the point of the most adventurous pin. Above it hung a little six-by-eight mirror. Midway between
6table and bed was the window, with an icy white muslin frill over it, and opposite it was the wash-stand. The whole
7apartment was of a rigidity not to be described in words, but which sent a shiver to the very marrow of Anne's bones.
8With a sob she hastily discarded her garments, put on the skimpy nightgown and sprang into bed where she burrowed face
9downward into the pillow and pulled the clothes over her head. When Marilla came up for the light various skimpy
10articles of raiment scattered most untidily over the floor and a certain tempestuous appearance of the bed were the only
11indications of any presence save her own. She deliberately picked up Anne's clothes, placed them neatly on a prim yellow
12chair, and then, taking up the candle, went over to the bed. "Good night," she said, a little awkwardly, but not
13unkindly. Anne's white face and big eyes appeared over the bedclothes with a startling suddenness. "How can you call it
14a good night when you know it must be the very worst night I've ever had?" she said reproachfully. Then she dived down
15into invisibility again. Marilla went slowly down to the kitchen and proceeded to wash the supper dishes. Matthew was
16smoking--a sure sign of perturbation of mind. He seldom smoked, for Marilla set her face against it as a filthy habit;
17but at certain times and seasons he felt driven to it and then Marilla winked at the practice, realizing that a mere man
18must have some vent for his emotions. "Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish," she said wrathfully. "This is what comes
19of sending word instead of going ourselves. Richard Spencer's folks have twisted that message somehow. One of us will
20have to drive over and see Mrs. Spencer tomorrow, that's certain. This girl will have to be sent back to the asylum."
21"Yes, I suppose so," said Matthew reluctantly. "You suppose so! Don't you know it?" "Well now, she's a real nice little
22thing, Marilla. It's kind of a pity to send her back when she's so set on staying here." "Matthew Cuthbert, you don't
23mean to say you think we ought to keep her!" Marilla's astonishment could not have been greater if Matthew had expressed
24a predilection for standing on his head. "Well, now, no, I suppose not--not exactly," stammered Matthew, uncomfortably
25driven into a corner for his precise meaning. "I suppose--we could hardly be expected to keep her." "I should say not.
26What good would she be to us?" "We might be some good to her," said Matthew suddenly and unexpectedly. "Matthew
27Cuthbert, I believe that child has bewitched you! I can see as plain as plain that you want to keep her." "Well now,
28she's a real interesting little thing," persisted Matthew. "You should have heard her talk coming from the station."
29"Oh, she can talk fast enough. I saw that at once. It's nothing in her favor, either. I don't like children who have so
30much to say. I don't want an orphan girl and if I did she isn't the style I'd pick out. There's something I don't
31understand about her. No, she's got to be despatched straightway back to where she came from." "I could hire a French
32boy to help me," said Matthew, "and she'd be company for you." "I'm not suffering for company," said Marilla shortly.
33"And I'm not going to keep her." "Well now, it's just as you say, of course, Marilla," said Matthew rising and putting
34his pipe away. "I'm going to bed." To bed went Matthew. And to bed, when she had put her dishes away, went Marilla,
35frowning most resolutely. And up-stairs, in the east gable, a lonely, heart-hungry, friendless child cried herself to
36sleep.
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