was who spoke up stoutly.
It was my fault Mr. Phillips. I teased her.
Mr. Phillips paid no heed to Gilbert.
I am sorry to see a pupil of mine displaying such a temper and such
a vindictive spirit, he said in a solemn tone, as if the mere fact of
being a pupil of his ought to root out all evil passions from the hearts
of small imperfect mortals. Anne, go and stand on the platform in front
of the blackboard for the rest of the afternoon.
Anne would have infinitely preferred a whipping to this punishment under
which her sensitive spirit quivered as from a whiplash. With a white,
set face she obeyed. Mr. Phillips took a chalk crayon and wrote on the
blackboard above her head.
Ann Shirley has a very bad temper. Ann Shirley must learn to control
her temper, and then read it out loud so that even the primer class,
who couldn t read writing, should understand it.
Anne stood there the rest of the afternoon with that legend above her.
She did not cry or hang her head. Anger was still too hot in her heart
for that and it sustained her amid all her agony of humiliation. With
resentful eyes and passion-red cheeks she confronted alike Diana s
sympathetic gaze and Charlie Sloane s indignant nods and Josie Pye s
malicious smiles. As for Gilbert Blythe, she would not even look at him.
She would _never_ look at him again! She would never speak to him!!
When school was dismissed Anne marched out with her red head held high.
Gilbert Blythe tried to intercept her at the porch door.
I m awfully sorry I made fun of your hair, Anne, he whispered
contritely. Honest I am. Don t be mad for keeps, now.
Anne swept by disdainfully, without look or sign of hearing. Oh
how could you, Anne? breathed Diana as they went down the road half
reproachfully, half admiringly. Diana felt that _she_ could never have
resisted Gilbert s plea.
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