If she’d really felt sorry it wouldn’t be so bad. And she doesn’t appear to realize how wicked she’s been at all–that’s what worries me most. I think I’ve let her off entirely too easy. Don’t you think it’s pretty rough not to let her go to the picnic when she’s so set on it?” “Well now, she shouldn’t have taken the brooch, Marilla, or told stories about it,” he admitted, mournfuly surveying his plateful of unromantic pork and greens as if he, like Anne, thought it a food unsuited to crises of feeling, “but she’s such a little thing–such an interesting little thing. Boiled pork and greens are so unromantic when one is in affliction.”Įxasperated, Marilla returned to the kitchen and poured out her tale of woe to Matthew, who, between his sense of justice and his unlawful sympathy with Anne, was a miserable man. But please don’t ask me to eat anything, especially boiled pork and greens. Remember when the time comes that I forgive you. You’ll feel remorse of conscience someday, I expect, for breaking it, Marilla, but I forgive you. “I don’t want any dinner, Marilla,” said Anne, sobbingly. A tear-stained face appeared, looking tragically over the banisters. When dinner was ready she went to the stairs and called Anne. Neither the shelves nor the porch needed it–but Marilla did. Marilla worked fiercely and scrubbed the porch floor and the dairy shelves when she could find nothing else to do. But I’ve put my hand to the plow and I won’t look back.” Oh dear, I’m afraid Rachel was right from the first. No child in her senses would behave as she does. “For the land’s sake!” gasped Marilla, hastening from the room. She clasped her hands together, gave a piercing shriek, and then flung herself face downward on the bed, crying and writhing in an utter abandonment of disappointment and despair. No, not a word.”Īnne realized that Marilla was not to be moved. You are not going to the picnic and that’s final. Marilla disengaged Anne’s clinging hands stonily. Think of the ice cream! For anything you know I may never have a chance to taste ice cream again.” Oh, Marilla, please, please, let me go to the picnic. “But you PROMISED me I might! Oh, Marilla, I must go to the picnic. “Not go to the picnic!” Anne sprang to her feet and clutched Marilla’s hand. And it isn’t half severe enough either for what you’ve done!” “Picnic, indeed! You’ll go to no picnic today, Anne Shirley. Won’t you please get it over right off because I’d like to go to the picnic with nothing on my mind.” It’ll be your duty to punish me, Marilla. “Yes, I suppose I am,” agreed Anne tranquilly. “You are the very wickedest girl I ever heard of” “Anne, this is terrible,” she said, trying to speak calmly. This child had taken and lost her treasured amethyst brooch and now sat there calmly reciting the details thereof without the least apparent compunction or repentance. Marilla felt hot anger surge up into her heart again. And that’s the best I can do at confessing, Marilla.” Oh, how it did shine in the sunlight! And then, when I was leaning over the bridge, it just slipped through my fingers–so–and went down–down–down, all purplysparkling, and sank forevermore beneath the Lake of Shining Waters. When I was going over the bridge across the Lake of Shining Waters I took the brooch off to have another look at it. I went all the way around by the road to lengthen out the time. I thought I could put it back before you came home. Diana and I make necklaces of roseberries but what are roseberries compared to amethysts? So I took the brooch. It would be so much easier to imagine I was the Lady Cordelia if I had a real amethyst brooch on. I imagined how perfectly thrilling it would be to take it to Idlewild and play I was the Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald. But it did look so beautiful, Marilla, when I pinned it on my breast that I was overcome by an irresistible temptation. “I took the amethyst brooch,” said Anne, as if repeating a lesson she had learned.
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