and she s as vain as a peacock now. Well, I hope she ll be satisfied
at last, for I know she s been hankering after those silly sleeves ever
since they came in, although she never said a word after the first. The
puffs have been getting bigger and more ridiculous right along; they re
as big as balloons now. Next year anybody who wears them will have to go
through a door sideways.
Christmas morning broke on a beautiful white world. It had been a very
mild December and people had looked forward to a green Christmas; but
just enough snow fell softly in the night to transfigure Avonlea. Anne
peeped out from her frosted gable window with delighted eyes. The firs
in the Haunted Wood were all feathery and wonderful; the birches
and wild cherry-trees were outlined in pearl; the plowed fields were
stretches of snowy dimples; and there was a crisp tang in the air that
was glorious. Anne ran downstairs singing until her voice reechoed
through Green Gables.
Merry Christmas, Marilla! Merry Christmas, Matthew! Isn t it a lovely
Christmas? I m so glad it s white. Any other kind of Christmas doesn t
seem real, does it? I don t like green Christmases. They re not
green--they re just nasty faded browns and grays. What makes people call
them green? Why--why--Matthew, is that for me? Oh, Matthew!
Matthew had sheepishly unfolded the dress from its paper swathings and
held it out with a deprecatory glance at Marilla, who feigned to be
contemptuously filling the teapot, but nevertheless watched the scene
out of the corner of her eye with a rather interested air.
Anne took the dress and looked at it in reverent silence. Oh, how pretty
it was--a lovely soft brown gloria with all the gloss of silk; a skirt
with dainty frills and shirrings; a waist elaborately pintucked in the
most fashionable way, with a little ruffle of filmy lace at the neck.
But the sleeves--they were the crowning glory! Long elbow cuffs, and
above them two beautiful puffs divided by rows of shirring and bows of
brown-silk ribbon.
That s a Christmas present for you, Anne, said Matthew shyly.
Why--why--Anne, don t you like it? Well now--well now.
For Anne s eyes had suddenly filled with tears.
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