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1Anne flew to the door, face alight, eyes glowing. On the very threshold she stopped short, wheeled about, came back and
2sat down by the table, light and glow as effectually blotted out as if some one had clapped an extinguisher on her.
3"What's the matter now?" demanded Marilla. "I don't dare go out," said Anne, in the tone of a martyr relinquishing all
4earthly joys. "If I can't stay here there is no use in my loving Green Gables. And if I go out there and get acquainted
5with all those trees and flowers and the orchard and the brook I'll not be able to help loving it. It's hard enough now,
6so I won't make it any harder. I want to go out so much--everything seems to be calling to me, 'Anne, Anne, come out to
7us. Anne, Anne, we want a playmate'--but it's better not. There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from
8them, is there? And it's so hard to keep from loving things, isn't it? That was why I was so glad when I thought I was
9going to live here. I thought I'd have so many things to love and nothing to hinder me. But that brief dream is over. I
10am resigned to my fate now, so I don't think I'll go out for fear I'll get unresigned again. What is the name of that
11geranium on the window-sill, please?" "That's the apple-scented geranium." "Oh, I don't mean that sort of a name. I mean
12just a name you gave it yourself. Didn't you give it a name? May I give it one then? May I call it--let me see--Bonny
13would do--may I call it Bonny while I'm here? Oh, do let me!" "Goodness, I don't care. But where on earth is the sense
14of naming a geranium?" "Oh, I like things to have handles even if they are only geraniums. It makes them seem more like
15people. How do you know but that it hurts a geranium's feelings just to be called a geranium and nothing else? You
16wouldn't like to be called nothing but a woman all the time. Yes, I shall call it Bonny. I named that cherry-tree
17outside my bedroom window this morning. I called it Snow Queen because it was so white. Of course, it won't always be in
18blossom, but one can imagine that it is, can't one?" "I never in all my life saw or heard anything to equal her,"
19muttered Marilla, beating a retreat down to the cellar after potatoes. "She is kind of interesting, as Matthew says. I
20can feel already that I'm wondering what on earth she'll say next. She'll be casting a spell over me, too. She's cast it
21over Matthew. That look he gave me when he went out said everything he said or hinted last night over again. I wish he
22was like other men and would talk things out. A body could answer back then and argue him into reason. But what's to be
23done with a man who just looks?" Anne had relapsed into reverie, with her chin in her hands and her eyes on the sky,
24when Marilla returned from her cellar pilgrimage. There Marilla left her until the early dinner was on the table. "I
25suppose I can have the mare and buggy this afternoon, Matthew?" said Marilla. Matthew nodded and looked wistfully at
26Anne. Marilla intercepted the look and said grimly: "I'm going to drive over to White Sands and settle this thing. I'll
27take Anne with me and Mrs. Spencer will probably make arrangements to send her back to Nova Scotia at once. I'll set
28your tea out for you and I'll be home in time to milk the cows." Still Matthew said nothing and Marilla had a sense of
29having wasted words and breath. There is nothing more aggravating than a man who won't talk back--unless it is a woman
30who won't. Matthew hitched the sorrel into the buggy in due time and Marilla and Anne set off. Matthew opened the yard
31gate for them and as they drove slowly through, he said, to nobody in particular as it seemed: "Little Jerry Buote from
32the Creek was here this morning, and I told him I guessed I'd hire him for the summer." Marilla made no reply, but she
33hit the unlucky sorrel such a vicious clip with the whip that the fat mare, unused to such treatment, whizzed
34indignantly down the lane at an alarming pace. Marilla looked back once as the buggy bounced along and saw that
35aggravating Matthew leaning over the gate, looking wistfully after them.
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